


Alpha: Part 1: A Good Fox

by TheSchwartz



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant (Hopefully), Easter Eggs, Easter eggs EVERYWHERE, F/M, Fight Sequences, Late to the Fandom, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 16:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSchwartz/pseuds/TheSchwartz
Summary: In which Nick Wilde is more than the mammal he claims to be. Much more. Blood will be spilt, bonds will be made and broken, and a legend will rise from the shadows: the legend of Alpha.





	1. The Ones We Hurt

_Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't. -Mark Twain_

  
There is a moment in everyone’s life when they stop and think “how did I get into this situation”.

For a certain fox, that was now; sat with his back against an overturned SUV, surrounded by broken glass and twisted metal. His clothes were stained red with blood, though not all of it was his own. His breathing was heavy and ragged. In his paws he clutched an automatic pistol as though his life depended on it. It very well had.

As he lay in this dying state, the fox contemplated the chronology of his life that had led to this moment.

A chance encounter, a reluctant assistance, a growing bond, an unprecedented victory and, finally, a righteous purpose.

But that was not the whole story. It couldn’t be. There was something missing. A catalyst…

 _Her_.

A chance encounter with her, a reluctant assistance to her, a growing bond with her, an unprecedented victory aside her and, finally, a righteous purpose... Because of her.

Of course! It was her! His whole reason for being. The driving force for moving beyond his twisted past.

_It had always been her._

 

 _Earlier_.

 

Right now, all he wanted to do was torment her.

“Come on Carrots! This song is a classic!”

From his passenger seat in the oversized police cruiser, the fox watched with no small amount of glee as the rabbit next to him visibly started to lose her temper.

“Nick! Change the radio station now! That is an order!” exclaimed the disgruntled bunny.

“I’ll have you know, Gangsta’s Paradise by Woolio is one of the best songs of the 90’s,” replied Nick, as he turned the volume up on the offending song.

“Besides, Officer Fluff, I thought bunnies of all mammals would appreciate hip-hop.”

That was the last straw.

With a blinding speed and ferocity, Officer Judy Hopps, top of her class at the Zootopia Police Academy, hit Officer Nick Wilde in the arm with a resounding thwack, causing him to yelp in pain.

“Youch! I forgot about that cannon you have for an arm,” said Nick as he gingerly rubbed his shoulder. He immediately changed the radio channel.

Looking over at his favorite rabbit, he saw a smug expression grace her muzzle. She had learned well from his arsenal of signature smiles.

From this replica grin, his eyes began to wander over the rest of her form. Her small, compact body could easily be mistaken as weak but from his proximity he could see how toned and strong it was. Her musculature was very well defined. He had learned from experience that she was truly a rabbit to be reckoned with.

Then again, he wasn’t exactly a token fox. His time in the academy and a month on the force had proven his merit as an officer of the law. Like Judy, Nick had graduated as valedictorian of his class. He set multiple academy records in obstacle course training, written evaluations, and sharpshooting, along with the second fastest take-down on the enormous criminal test, after Judy of course. He had gone for weak spots on the massive rhino opponent, striking his legs and lower body while expertly dodging any retaliation, before climbing up his torso and repeatedly punching his cranium, bludgeoning him halfway unconscious. Thus resulting in the other record of the worst headache the horned mammal had ever felt. He had even bested Judy more times than not in the ring, though she still took him down on a few occasions , an impressive feat considering she had been the only one to do so.

His sharpshooting was on another level entirely. He managed to get near perfect to perfect scores whenever he was at the firing range. What’s more, the way he handled weaponry was unprecedented. Every gun was manipulated, loaded, and dismantled with surgical precision.

Of course many mammals, especially Judy, had asked him how he was capable of such ability, especially since his apparent lack of it during the Nighthowler case. Every time this occurred, he would either chalk it up to the more controlled environment of the academy, or divert the conversation entirely.

 _She has to know someday_ , Nick thought to himself. _Just not now._

“Hey, Earth to Nick.”

At this moment Nick realized he had been absent-mindlessly staring at his partner. His smirk had disappeared and been replaced by one of almost melancholy pensiveness. He blinked a few times and shook his head.

“Sorry, Carrots. Got lost in my head for a moment,” he said while giving a noncommittal grin.

“Watchya thinking about there Slick?” She asked, a twinge of interest in her voice.

“Nothing much,” replied Nick.

“Nothing much is still something.”

“Yes, it’s nothing much.”

“Please Nick, stop trying to divert every conversation,” said Judy.

“Seriously Carrots, I’m fine,” retorted Nick. His grin faltered slightly in the process.

“Nick, what is it. You can tell me,” The interest had evolved into a form of concern.

At this point Nick started to panic. His ears flickered ever so slightly. His tail swished in an agitated state. Though their time together had been relatively brief, Judy was capable of picking up even the tiniest slip in his seemingly impenetrable mask.

And right now, Nick knew, she was reading him like a book.

_Shit. How does she do that?_

Another part of his mind chuckled. _Of course she can do it. You want her to. She is the first mammal you have ever opened up to. Her approval is one of the holiest idols in your life. You care for her._

Then it hit him. A thought that had swirled around in the deepest recesses of his mind for quite some time was brought to the surface. It was a thought that had first planted itself when he began to actually enjoy helping her little escapade many months prior, but had recently evolved into something far more terrifying.

_Care for is hardly strong enough of a term to describe how I feel about her._

_Shit. Again._

“What’s wrong Nick?” Judy asked again, having pulled the cruiser over. Her bright eyes bore into his very being.

_Her beautiful amethyst eyes…_

Sighing, Nick dropped the rest of his defenses as his smirk faded and his ears drooped.

“I… I just… I was just thinking about… something. Something I feel I should tell you about… But I really don’t know how to go about doing it,” he said while trying to avoid her gaze. Every word spoken was like pulling a splinter.

“You can tell me anything Nick. You’re my best friend. Whatever it is you want to say, please do so, I won’t think any differently of you,” said Judy. She had placed her paw on Nick’s at this point. causing him to flinch slightly.

 _You will not pull away._ He forced himself to hold fast. _Not this time._

“My life is far more complicated than I have let on Carrots,” stated Nick.

“You mean working with a mob boss wasn’t complicated?”

“Har, har. Very funny,” was the sarcastic response. “Really though, I want to tell you about all the parts between the Ranger Scouts incident and now. My partner and first friend in… a long time, deserves it”

Nick had been meaning to tell her more about himself for a while now. Talking through the Junior Ranger Scouts incident from its hopeful beginning to the painful muzzled end had lifted a weight from his shoulders he didn’t even know he was carrying. However, that was one moment. How would she react to what was essentially his life story? The last thing he wanted to be seen as, by her of all mammals, was a charity case.

Judy lowered her ears and casually stroked his paw. “Then tell me. Your partner and friend wants to know.”

_Well that settles that concern._

“I don’t think now is the best time,” he said with a slow methodical tempo. “Could we discuss it after work. You could come over to my place. I’ll make food and divulge everything. I promise.”

At this, Judy blushed slightly. Her radar-like ears sprung up and turned the lightest shade of pink. “You’ve never invited me to your home before.”

“I’ve been meaning to. Scout’s honor,” Nick hastily replied.

“Are you asking me on a date, Slick?” She asked, an almost giddy look in her eyes. A smug expression had returned to her features.

“Uh…” Nick’s eyes grew wide at this insinuation. “I mean… only if… you want it to be… if you want to call it that then… I mean that wasn’t the plan but if you really, really want to then it could potentially…” Nick didn’t get to finish his disastrous train of thought as a small, grey, fluffy paw reached out and clamped his muzzle shut.

“Would I mind going on a date with you?” Judy giggled while letting go of his maw. “No, no I would not.”

Nick blinked, “Well, that clears up the other thing I wanted to talk about,” He said as his tail began to wag in a content state.  
“Would tonight at eight work?”

“Sounds good! I’ll be there,” chirped Judy, when her face took on a more serious veneer. “Seriously though Nick, I know it must be difficult to open up to me but I want to get to know you better. And I appreciate how you want to tell me about yourself. I care about you… a lot in fact,” she added with a subtle blush in her ears.  
  
“Thanks Judy,” Nick replied, noticing her blush deepen at the use of her rarely-spoken-by-him-in-lieu-of-a-pet-term name.  
  
Before Nick could add a witty remark to ruin the moment, the cruiser’s radio crackled to life. The voice of the ZPD’s lovable dispatcher, Benjamin Clawhouser, filled the car.

“Car Eleven Sierra, dispatch. Come in car Eleven Sierra.”

Nick flicked on the radio. “This is car Eleven Sierra. Go ahead Spots”

“Hey Nick! Be advised there has been an anonymous noise complaint regarding an abandoned warehouse on Hornsworth street. Just check on it and make sure everything is okay,” replied the portly cheetah, clearly indifferent about the problem after such a boring day, which had succeeded in reducing his usually boisterous demeanor to rubble.

“Roger that. Officers Wilde and Hopps responding to noise complaint. Over and out,” Nick replied with a flick of the mic button.

“Don’t you mean Hopps and Wilde?” teased Judy.

Nick pretended to contemplate this for a moment while rubbing his muzzle, “No, Wilde-Hopps sounds better,” he stated with a smug expression, earning him a snicker from the rabbit.

Nick casually flicked the siren as Judy accelerated to their destination. Finally, some action! After a day of not even a single litter offense, a noise complaint seemed like a relatively exciting endeavor.  
  
Of course, in case it got too exciting, Nick knew he and Judy had each other’s backs. Furthermore, they would not be entirely defenseless.

Since the Nighthowler case, many of the city’s council members, backed by public opinion, demanded and eventually passed a law that required all police officers to carry lethal firearms instead of the once standard tranquilizer weapons. Because of this, Nick had a Ramington 870-M shotgun in the rear of the cruiser. Though sized more for wolves and the like, he had shown great proficiency in wielding it, along with a medium-sized Bearetta 9mm he had in his hip holster.

Judy, being the smallest officer on the force, was provided a Wolfer PPK-S automatic pistol. It was a compact thing that had been cut down even more to ensure she could use it. And use it she could, as demonstrated by her target practices, which were some of the best in the precinct, after Nick of course.

In short, they were both prepared for whatever lay ahead.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June, 2016; the month that will live in infamy.  
> I was home one day when my sister requested that we rent the new-ish movie Zootopia on Amazon Prime. Why not? I like Disney movies well enough. What could possibly occur from this?  
> Turns out a lot.  
> The film was good, really good. The characters were organic and real (ironic considering they were talking foxes and rabbits), the plot was fun, the world was dynamic and beautiful, and the theme was executed smoothly without feeling like it was pulling teeth. But there was a catch. It’s one thing to call Zootopia my second favorite film of 2016 (after The Nice Guys, of course), it’s another thing entirely to say I wanted more of it.  
> It began with fan art, then the fandom, then fanfics. Eventually I was reading several works at a time. But there was something missing. Nothing is worse than having an itch you can’t scratch. I needed to do something drastic.  
> So I wrote a story.  
> I write this story (trilogy in point of fact) for me and me alone. The plan was to have something unique, while still tying into the original film. Some fandom tropes I will dash against the wall, others shall be placed on a pedistal in reverence (hint: Wildehopps). If you want to read this probable trainwreck and the most extensive writing piece I have ever attempted by all means please do so. I cannot guarantee I will add to it regularly as college is a needy bitch and my life is chaotic, but by the gods I shall see it through to the end. For those of you still reading I hope you enjoy the ride.  
> Tally ho lads!


	2. Old Wounds

To Nick, the warehouse was, in every sense of the word, unnerving.

The location, a dead end street in an abandoned industrial park on the far side of the Meadowlands District, was unnerving.

The facade, a coagulation of rusted steel and broken glass where functional loading doors and windows once stood, was unnerving.

Even the distance between the road and the warehouse, a short stretch of brush-infested concrete dulled by overcast on a chilly November afternoon, was unnerving.

No, Nick did not like the look of the warehouse at all.

Which made him wonder why, with his rabbit friend-or-maybe-more Judy by his side, he was approaching it.

Despite an official stride the two used when nearing the ominous building, both officers kept their eyes and ears on a swivel (the latter achieved mostly by Officer Hopps). As they got close, Judy signaled to Nick that she heard something through one of the holes formerly known as a window on a loading dock door. The hole was far too high for either mammal to reach by themselves, so with a practiced effort Judy clambered onto Nick’s shoulders, allowing her to see and hear into the warehouse. Once Nick felt her signal him to let her down, he gently helped her back to terra firma, only to be met with a startling sight.

The infallible Officer Judy Hopps was, under her fur, white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide with concern.

When they made their way back to the cruiser, Judy finally blurted out, “Nick! There are five or six heavily armed mammals in there with crates of weapons. It looked like some kind of sell or trade was going down.”

“Fuck me! Pardon my Furench,” he added sheepishly when she gave him a scolding look. “Could you tell who was on each side of the exchange?”

“A couple of caribou looked like they were inspecting the weapons, while a mix of different mammals, predator and prey, was watching them. I’m guessing the others were all part of their own group.”

“Ok, so caribou are definitely the Prongs. They’re a small-time group of thugs. Not the best fighters. Explains why they would want some firepower,” said Nick as he drew from his extensive knowledge of the criminal underworld. “The other group could be almost any smuggling ring. When all you want is to sell guns you tend not to care about what your gang members eat for lunch,”

“Got it,” said Judy. “So how do you want to handle this?”

Nick knew this was coming. Even with the odds of facing several criminals much bigger than her, Judy would push on with a defiant shake of her tail.

_My relentless rabbit._

But now was not the time for heroics.

“Carrots, I think we should wait for backup on this one,” said Nick.

“By the time any backup arrives the meeting could be over. Besides, we’re the two best cops in Zootopia, we are well armed, and we have them by surprise. We got this,” said Judy before Nick could offer a rebuttal.

Sighing, Nick conceded to her logic with a nod. He knew they could stand up against a few baddies. Even if the situation escalated they would each have the other’s back. The most proficient mammals on the ZPD would come out on top. They always did.

Nick reached into the cruiser and pulled out his shotgun. He then proceeded to meet Judy on the other side of the car as she was checking over her pistol. When it’s magazine snapped in place, her eyes finally rose to meet his. Nick raised the shotgun by the pump in a single, rapid motion, then snapped it down, loading the weapon with a satisfying click-clack sound. He quite enjoyed action film cliches.

“Ready to make the world a better place?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“You betcha,” chirped Judy.

With that the two officers quickly and quietly approached a smaller entrance near the loading doors that would lead directly into the warehouse. Without testing to see if it was locked, the two prepared for a breaching routine they had practiced often, but had yet to use in a real-world scenario.

Judy stood by the door while Nick planted his hind paws firmly on the ground a few feet away; his shotgun held horizontally in front of him. With a single nod, Judy leaped at Nick and situated her hind paws on the shotgun. She then sprung from it towards the door, with a push from Nick to offer her extra momentum, and reoriented herself midair while kicking at the door as hard as she could.

Within the warehouse, all conversation was immediately silenced by the sound of the front entrance door being blown inward; and the sight of a determined rabbit and a shotgun-wielding fox, both in police uniforms, barreling in after.

“ZPD! Hands in the air!” shouted the fox with a menacing snarl.

For the briefest of moments, Nick mentally rejoiced as the startled perps began to cautiously lower their firearms… only to have his hopes dashed against the wall as several more mammals, all armed with high powered assault rifles, burst through a nearby office door and began to open fire. The original set quickly followed suit as the two officers ducked behind a nearby industrial shelving unit for cover.

“So much for plan A!” said Nick as he leaned around the metalwork and fired at an approaching bobcat, catching him in the legs and dropping him instantly.

“Shut up and cover me!” returned Judy as she leaned out of cover and put several rounds into one of the caribou, badly wounding him and removing him from the fight. Nick followed up with a couple of shots as Judy reloaded and moved to an adjacent shelving unit. She couldn’t have noticed, but every time Nick fired, his aim was slightly off of lethal accuracy. None of his shots were actually meant to kill. Instead, Nick aimed for arms, legs, and lower torsos. These thugs weren’t action heroes. An arm riddled with lead would have one of them floored in a heartbeat.

_No deaths. Never again._

Nick reloaded his shotgun as Judy placed several more rounds into a cougar who was in the midst of advancing on their location. The two officers may have had training on their side, but they were still fighting a losing battle against an enemy force with far superior numbers and weaponry. If help didn’t arrive shortly, they would soon be overrun.

“Officer Wilde, dispatch! We need backup at Hornsworth street warehouse!” yelled Nick into his radio.

Before he could hear a response, a caribou appeared from behind a set of crates and placed himself directly on the opposite side of Nick from Judy, about thirty feet away. His gun was not with him, apparently having run out of ammo. However, Nick knew a horned mammal was not entirely defenseless without one.

Without a moment of hesitation, the caribou lowered his head, and in turn his dangerously sharp prongs, and charged.

An old sensation flooded Nick. His mind worked at a lightning pace. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

At the caribou’s current speed, Nick surmised, any rounds that impacted the horned mammal would not significantly slow him, even if they managed to pierce something important and prove fatal. Nick, along with Judy, would become a pair of furry shish kabobs.

A second after the caribou’s charge, Nick slung the shotgun on his shoulder and began to sprint full tilt at the oncoming caribou.

Judy noticed this all too late and cried out for Nick as the impact became imminent.

It never came.

At the last possible second, Nick dropped and slid under his approaching death, while simultaneously grabbing one of the caribou’s legs. In its unchecked haste, the caribou found itself tripping over its own hooves and crashing into the cement floor, breaking an antler. He skidded to a stop several feet from Judy. A close call. As the horned combatant tried to lift his dazed body, Nick scrambled up along it and brought his shotgun down butt first on the caribou’s head with all his strength, knocking the herbivore out cold.

It was a short-lived victory.

Looking up from his fallen foe, Nick watched with horror as a bullet grazed Judy’s arm, causing her to relinquish her firing stance long enough for a grey wolf to rush in and take a swipe at her. Its claws missed her by inches, but the following swing of an emptied rifle, courtesy of a just now noticed ibex, did not fail to do so.

With a thud that was deafening in Nick’s ears, Judy collapsed to the floor. The ibex stood over her and pinned her to the ground with the barrel of his gun. A cruel sneer spread across his face. Judy groaned slightly as blood seeped from a wound in her upper arm. Her muzzle was contorted in pain.

“JUDY! NO!” cried Nick as he brought his shotgun to bare. He never got to fire as a sharp pain split through his skull, knocking him to the ground.

As he lay in a dazed state, Nick watched as a series of blurs moved about him, talking frantically to each other.

One blur with the shape and color of a snow leopard, and a horribly recognizable voice, stood out as familiar.

“You must understand,” said the leopard blur as it turned to a nearby caribou blur, “when I request a secure location for such a fragile transaction, I expect said location to be secure from _everyone_.”

“I swear I got no idea how they found us! Nobody lives here! Hell, the ZPD don’t even patrol here!” Stammered the caribou.

“And yet, here they are. You are aware that, because of this transgression, we can no longer do business,” said the leopard in his deep, purring voice, a hint of Eastern Furopean in his accent. As he said this, the leopard took a few steps away from the caribou. “Furthermore, you are aware that I cannot let you leave unpunished.”

The leopard wheeled about, while simultaneously drawing a Colt automatic handgun from his black jacket. The caribou experienced barely a second of shock before a hollow point 9mm round gouged it’s way through his head. He dropped to the floor as his still-living colleagues bolted for the nearest exit. One stopped to pick up his unconscious buddy whom Nick had knocked out a minute earlier.

“Now that we have that sorted out,” said the leopard to the remaining mammals, “let’s see what we have here.” The leopard took a few slow strides to where Judy was grounded. “Ah! Of course! A true legend has come to teach me the ways of right and wrong!” He reached down with a clawed hand and gently brushed Judy’s cheek. “What an adorably mighty ball of fluff…”

“DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!” Growled Nick, though his words were still mildly slurred.

At once the snow leopard stopped and turned to face him, a look of recognition and shock flashed across his aged features.

“You. I know you.” he said with deliberate pauses between words. Shock was replaced by the cruelest of grins. “Old contracts are null and void I see. How unfortunate. I had seen the news and heard the rumors, but I could hardly believe a fox had joined the police, least of all _this fox_.”

“And I can’t believe you’re even more of a dick, but here we are.”

With a subdued cackle, the leopard, ( _Ivan Meowkov, I’d recognize that face anywhere._ ) turned back to Judy. “I take it he has not told you about me, otherwise old work would have been dredged up and you would have certainly never let him in the academy. More likely you would have arrested him!” he said as he let out a spirited guffaw. Ivan proceeded to pick the rabbit up with one paw and rise to his full height. His claws dug into her skin under her uniform. “I must be leaving before your backup arrives. I cannot kill you out of, shall we say, respect for your partner. However, you must learn not to cross me. Next time I will not be so kind.” Without another word, Meowkov brought his other arm up, gun still in paw, and bludgeoned it across her head. When he dropped Judy to the ground, her body was limp.

“NOOOO!” Screamed Nick, ignoring the horrible ringing still in his ears, “I’ll kill you! You sick fuck!”

Turning from the rag doll that was Judy, Meowkov walked over to Nick and picked him up next. Still in a somewhat dazed state, Nick could only lightly struggle against the leopard’s grip.

“Did you think your old life would be forgotten? That time would absolve your sins? It is a shame it has come to this, but I had assumed over two years ago that you were finished with taking down the ‘bad guys’. I certainly did not expect you to try arresting them, or me for that matter,” jabbed Meowkov. His face was a mere foot from Nick’s. His teeth bared. “I do, however, expect to never see you or the cute bunny again. Miakoi posadki, _Alpha_.”

In the next moment, Nick was flying. His journey came to an abrupt end when his head hit concrete, and everything went black. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably a bad time to say I have no middle to the story thought out, only a beginning and end. I’m not looking for a Pulitzer Prize winner, but come on brain! Do some work!
> 
> Also “Miakoi posadki” means “soft landings” in Russian.


	3. A State of Mind

The world was spinning, but it was certainly still there, in every sickening sense.

As Nick began to reawaken from his crash landing, he noticed several bluish shapes moving about him. He also noticed he was lying in something softer than the concrete he had fallen on. A quick grasp told him it was the light padding of a stretcher. He was being taken to a hospital for his injuries.

 _Injuries_ …

 _Judy_.

Nick shot up from the stretcher, startling the two mammals, a wolf and a deer, carrying it. He began to wildly look in all directions for his friend, ears perked up and eyes wide. He hopped out of the stretcher and stumbled into a lion in uniform.

“Woah there! Take it easy Wilde,” soothed Delgato as he firmly gripped the still reeling vulpine by the shoulders, “You look like hell.”

“Judy. Where’s Judy! She’s hurt! I need to see if she’s okay!” Nick had rarely known this level of panic before in his life. His heart was firing off like an engine, powering his rapidly cycling respiratory system. He saw a second stretcher with a small grey form on top of it and tried to run to it, but his legs felt like jello. Only Delgato’s grip kept him from collapsing.

“Come on Wilde, you need medical attention. I’m sure these wonderful paramedics don’t want you to make their jobs harder than necessary,” said the lion police officer. As he said this, he could see the anguish plastered on Nick’s face. Since his arrival at precinct, Nick had made fast friends with many of the officers due to his amiable, if somewhat snarky nature, and Delgato was no exception, being a rather relaxed mammal himself. Now, as he watched Nick stare at Judy with hopelessness in his eyes, Stanley Delgato knew what he had to do.

Without another word, Delgato lead Nick carefully towards Judy, giving a brief acknowledgment to the two confused mammals holding a now vacant stretcher. He let Nick walk on his own for dignity’s sake, but was careful to give him something to lean on to keep him on his feet.

Once they reached Judy, who was already inside the ambulance, Nick lent on her stretcher for support and looked her over. It was so surreal. He always saw her as a powerful, larger than life mammal who could take on anything. But here, she was so small.

Delgato gave a nod to one of the paramedics, a sympathetic looking antelope, who proceeded to order the driver to get going, allowing Nick to stay for the ride to the hospital.

Once the ambulance doors were closed and he was out of sight of his colleagues, Nick finally let the tears flow.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” said the antelope as she examined and began to disinfect Judy’s shoulder wound. It was a relatively clean through and through shot, so there was no lead to dig out. “I’ve seen tougher mammals than you get emotional over someone close.”

Nick wiped at his eyes. He watched as the antelope began to close up the wound. She worked as though she were oblivious to the lurching ambulance they were in. He grasped Judy’s paw with a tender strength.

“It’s just been a rough day,” he said.

 

 

A hospital is rarely a fun place. Especially to those who fear someone they know there is on death’s doorstep.

“Doc, I’m fine. Seriously,” said Nick as the aged lynx in a white lab coat shined a bright light directly into his eye.

“Is that an expert opinion? I usually don’t recommend slamming your head against a wall in this profession. Now hold still,” responded the lynx with a level of sarcasm that rivaled Nick on an average day.

“Look, doctor…”

“Pierce, Alan Pierce.”

“Right. Look, Doctor Pierce, I’m sorry to make your job more difficult, I really am. I just want to know how my partner is.”

“I take it patient confidentiality means nothing to you,” quipped Pierce, “Then again you probably want to know the state of your girlfriend…”

“Woah, woah, woah! Who says she’s my girlfriend?”

“Kit, I’ve been a doctor for twenty years, eleven of those in an army field hospital. I’ve seen every kind of physical and emotional distress. And right now, you have lovestruck written all over you,” said Pierce with finality in his voice.

Sighing, Nick submitted to the rest of his examinations. “I just want to know if she’s okay.”

An imperceptibly small grin lined the doctor’s muzzle. “Okay, I don’t see signs of any major trauma. You’ll feel a lot better by morning. Just lay off the life-threatening scenarios for a few days,” Pierce followed up with a sigh. “Your partner is in the recovery ward. Come on. I’ll take you to her,” he said as he opened the door to the examination room and gestured for Nick to follow him. He lead the distraught todd down a white corridor, turned left, and brought him to a plain wooden door a few rooms down. Once they reached it, the lynx opened the door and led Nick inside.

Nick felt his heart drop like a stone at what he saw. On a massive bed, with crisp, white sheets, lay Judy Hopps. Her shoulder was wrapped in fresh bandages. Several tubes and wires were hooked up to her arms. An EKG machine beeped methodically in the corner.

“She’s unconscious with a concussion, but recovering. She should wake up in a day or two, even then she will need to be on leave for at least several weeks. That bullet did a number on her shoulder.” Pierce said as he turned to Nick, “I’ll inform the nurse to let you stay here for a few hours if you want.”

Nick held the tears back with all of his might. “Thank you,” was all he could muster.

“Don’t patronize me for it,” replied Pierce with a pat on Nick’s shoulder. “By the way,” added the doctor as he turned to leave, “your forms indicate you’re thirty-three right?”

“Yes?” was the quizzical response.

“Well whatever your daily routine is, keep it up. You have the body of a mammal a decade younger,” stated Pierce. “I wish I had that kind of condition.”

Anyone trained in reading Nick would have seen the subtle twitch his right ear gave. “Thanks.”

“Take it easy,” responded Pierce as he left the room and closed the door, whistling a catchy little tune as he went.

When he was finally alone, Nick walked carefully to Judy’s bedside and gripped her paw in his once again. Wanting more proximity, Nick fell to his knees and placed his head near her arm. He nuzzled it tenderly while taking in her scent, hoping to drown out the sterile smells in the room. It was a scent he had at first gotten used to, then relished, but now he craved it daily with food and air.

_I’m so sorry Judy. I couldn’t protect you. Some partner I am._

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, nor did he know he was no longer alone until a hoof was placed on his shoulder.

“Officer Wilde,” came the deep baritone voice of Precinct One’s Chief Bogo. The Cape buffalo jumped slightly (an act he would never admit to _anyone_ ) as Nick immediately spun around.

“Chief Bogo sir!” the vulpine performed. Though his mannerisms were precise and professional, (which in and of itself gave Bogo pause), it was easy to see past the cracked mask to the reddened eyes and tear tracts running down his muzzle. Nick shuffled uncomfortably for a moment as the chief stood there appraising him.

“I have a few questions,” started the chief. Nick relaxed his stance and braced himself. “Firstly…”

“Did you get any of them?”

“Don’t interrupt Wilde,” warned the chief. “No, the backup you requested did not find any of the obviously large group you encountered, any alive members at least. We did recover several crates of assault rifles, easily worth thousands on the black market. I assume at least a dozen mammals were present given the state of the warehouse?” Nick nodded. “Right. Which leads me to ask why you and Hopps saw fit to take on a small army.”

“It was my fault sir,” stated Nick without hesitation. “Carr… Hopps judged there to be only a half dozen in the warehouse when we approached. I insisted we could take them. I should have counted on there being more in a back room, discussing business.”

“I take it this knowledge of illegal businesses comes from ‘past work experiences’,” asked the chief.

“Yes sir.”

“We’ll leave it at that,” said the chief. He was aware that Nick was hardly a model citizen before joining the force. However, he had agreed not to pry on the insistence of Officer Hopps, and in exchange for the value of such criminal knowledge in the paws of an officer. The rest of Nick’s police record, short as it was, spoke for itself. He was a good cop (again, something the chief would never admit). “Next question, why are you lying to me?”

“Sir?”

“I find it hard to believe that you were the one to instigate an impromptu raid,” said the chief. “We both know Hopps is by far more daring.”

This was it! The chief saw right through his lie. Nick didn’t want Judy to be implicated in anything. Who did Buffalo Butt think he was trying to accuse the purest mammal on the planet? Anger welled up inside the fox. “Her call was to enter, and I agreed. She trusted me to have her back. Sir.”

“Neither of you is being blamed for what happened, Wilde” said the chief. Nick’s anger was overshadowed by a new sense of confusion. “You both weighed the options, that’s all you could have done. Considering what transpired I am relieved the two of you are alive and recovering. From how I understand it the situation could have ended far worse.”

“I fail to see it that way, sir,” said Nick as he turned back to his injured partner. He expected the chief to follow up with a line stating “don’t talk back to your superiors” or some such protocol infused rhetoric. _Good, I could use a fight right now._ He felt his muzzle curling into the beginning of a snarl.

Instead, Bogo sighed. His features marginally softened. “Listen Wilde, I know all too well about emerging from an experience like that feeling like you could have done something better, but you cannot dwell on what might have been. Hopps is alive and a slew of dangerous weapons are off the street. She will be back to fighting criminals before you know it. You and I both know she’s tougher than she looks.”

“Yes sir,” was all Nick could say. His anger and snarl diminished, leaving only shame.

“Now, go home and get some rest,” continued Bogo, “Delgato is here to take your statement and will drive you to your apartment after. You can return to desk work tomorrow… yes, desk work. You are not galavanting after an arms dealer with injuries and a hospitalized partner,” the chief added the last part as Nick opened his mouth in an attempted retort. Needless to say it failed spectacularly on the tip of his tongue.

Nick took one last look at the rabbit in the bed before heading to the door. He gave a lazy salute and a “Night, Chief” to Bogo, mask firmly affixed once more, as he closed the door behind him.

 

 

“How the fuck did this happen?!”

Ivan Meowkov paced his study; a large, comfortable, book-filled room inside a not-so-abandoned storage facility on a not-quite-unused industrial waterfront port where he orchestrated deals and cataloged transactions. His paws gesticulated wildly as he did so. His teeth and claws flashed in the low lamplight. The only other mammal to hear his ravings was a lone figure sitting in a large chair, holding a glass of scotch he had taken the liberty to pour from Ivan’s liquor cabinet.

“Forty thousand bucks! Forty thousand fucking bucks worth of Kalashniklaws lost! Military grade! And _he_ was there,” continued Ivan. He suddenly wheeled on the figure, pointing a sharpened claw at him, “I have half a mind to think you are behind this!”

Calmly, the figure set his glass down on a nearby table. Despite the grey hairs around his muzzle and ears that contrasted with his muddy-red coat, the fox still carried a dangerous aura about him. His steely blue eyes were calm and focused. A wayward claw fiddled with the scotch glass. “And what, pray tell, would make you think that.”

“Perhaps he did not have an unfortunate ‘incident’ two years ago. Perhaps it was a ruse to get Alpha out of the light so I would drop my guard. Then you could bring a fox cop back to do me in!” Snarled Ivan as he brought his outstretched claw dangerously close to the fox’s head. “Perhaps you wanted my business all along!”

With absolute stoicism, the fox looked up at the looming threat as though he were an annoying houseguest. “I hope you realize how utterly moronic you sound right now,” said he with a voice that flowed like liquid silver. “Firstly, you and I both know about Alpha’s little _occurrence_ two years ago and considering what he was before compared to what you have found now I fail to grasp the concept of this being an elaborate hoax. You say none of your cohorts were killed?”, he gave a harsh scoff, “Alpha didn’t miss. He is, henceforth, a truly different mammal. Secondly, you may pay me to consult on your business practices but I can assure you when breaching the subject of loose ends, having a loose end turn it’s life around and become a _police officer_ was never in consideration. He was my hitmammal after all. I had to bloody well know what he was capable of, even after he vanished.”

The fox stood with a dramatic flare. “Finally, yes! Twas I who wanted your gun running operation! This escapade was a ruse from the start!” he said with sarcastic gusto. Immediately the fox returned to his bored sitting position. He leveled his gaze at Meowkov and watched the gears turn in his head.

After a heavy pause, the leopard relaxed his stance. “It is of no consequence now. He met me, and he lost. He and his rabbit partner will not think to try so again.”

“You did not kill them?” came the rhetorical follow up.

“I am not entirely a monster. I know when to respect my enemies. Especially those who had once done much for me. He and his partner have wounds that need healing, nothing more. I simply gave him a reason to fear me, and leave my work alone,” said Meowkov as he turned to leave.

“Are you certain you didn’t just give him an excuse to hunt,” asked the fox, causing Ivan to stop in his tracks.

“She is his partner, what could her suffering mean besides a warning? Like you said, he is a changed mammal, he will not try to fight me again. Perhaps I have broken his strange new sense of righteousness. Perhaps he will give up the ZPD. I have new shipments I must check on. You may show yourself out when you are finished.”

With that, Ivan exited through an elaborate mahogany door, leaving the vulpine to his thoughts.

_Perhaps the kitten is right. Nicholas won’t try to face him head on again given the chance. Good lord, even when he was Alpha he wouldn’t have stood up for someone…_

A moment of clarity flashed through the fox’s mind. He quickly dug his phone out from his jacket and selected his photos. There, he saw the picture he had taken from an online article: Hero Fox First Officer of his Species. The picture was of a younger fox, Nick Wilde, wearing ZPD dress blues, saluting the first rabbit police officer, Judy Hopps. The look on his face was one of absolute respect. The look in his eyes, however, showed something far more intimate.

_Then again…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that don’t need an animal-based-pun equivalent: 
> 
> Wolfenstein  
> The Animals  
> Def Leppard  
> Fleet Foxes  
> Silence of the Lambs  
> Buffalo Wild Wings  
> Panda Express  
> Jaguar  
> Colt Firearms  
> Fjallraven 
> 
> That’s all I’ve got so far.


	4. Joker and Thief

Nick had been meaning to clean his apartment. He really did. But who has the time?

After Delgato had taken his statement, which left out more “personal” observations (Was there a leopard involved? Yes, yes there was), Nick was taken home. “Home” in this case, was the aforementioned apartment. It had dirty laundry in and around a hamper in the corner of the bedroom, and clean laundry draped over the black, felt couch in the living room. Unread mail lay scattered on the kitchen counter. Apart from this, and a refrigerator that needed a good cleaning out, the apartment was relatively well kept. The decor was modern, and barely worn in. The location in downtown Savannah Central was surprisingly close to his work, while far enough from any substantial city attractions for both a more affordable price and privacy.

Entering through the dark green front door, Nick wandered to the well stocked kitchenette on his left, mind still racing from the day’s events. Passing the island counter that separated most of the cabinets and appliances from the rest of the living space, he contemplated, and ultimately decided against, the idea of eating. Instead, he paced in the other direction to the living area, equipped with a large flat screen television, an Xfox game console, and the couch/laundry rack. He checked his phone. The time read 7:50.

_Judy would have been here by now. She always showed up early._

_Stop thinking like that! She isn’t dead! She will be okay!_

This conversation raged inside his head, complete with real world snarls and gesturing, until Nick noticed his most prized possession sitting on a small table by the television.

Nick hadn’t really known his father, his mother before her passing used to speak fondly of him, claiming he was a good fox who was always above the stereotypes of his species. Among the many things she spoke of was his love of music, particularly vinyl records. According to her, he would carry on about how much better they sounded than cassettes or radio for as long as he deemed necessary.

As soon as he had purchased a permanent residence, Nick had bought a vinyl record player. It had other musical functions of course, but records were all it was used for. A small amassing of disks was in a pile on a lower shelf. He had hoped to show it to Judy tonight. One day, he hoped to show her his dancing.

_She is the only one I would dance with_ , he thought as he looked over a David Boarie album. _She shouldn’t be injured. I was supposed to help her, and I failed._

_But I could avenge her._

Nick did not like where this thought was leading. _No! I cannot do those things. Never again._

_So the academy was dumb luck?_

_Not dumb luck. Dumb bunny. I had to push myself for even the chance to work with her and prove her right. That I could be more than a shifty fox. But I can’t do those things in a real scenario! I promised myself I wouldn’t._

_That stunt in the warehouse would tell a different tale._

_You know that was nothing close to what I would have done! The old me wouldn’t have shown mercy._

_All that effort on mercy fucked up your job! The old you wouldn’t have lost your partner!_

_The old me didn’t have a partner!_

Fed up with the war against himself, Nick growled as he replaced the record and went to get ready for bed. He didn’t feel like doing anything else.

A shower did very little to make Nick feel any cleaner, and sleep all but eluded him.

 

Dawn came, and with it the memories.  
  
Usually Nick would first walk to Judy’s apartment, then they would walk to work together. Of course, such routine was out of the question today, so Nick settled for an older approach.

Taking the stairs down to the lower level parking garage, Nick went straight to where he remembered parking it. He hadn’t checked on it in a while, but it should have still been there; and there it was! It was in good condition despite a month of disuse. He had driven it when he got back from the academy to make certain it was still in working order, but as with the records he hadn’t gotten the chance to show it to Judy yet.

Nick couldn’t really call himself an aficionado of cars, but he knew what he liked to look at. And he definitely liked the looks of the older model Jaguar sitting in front of him. He had owned this car for roughly six years now; a relic of a life long past. The Purritish Racing Green held a dull sheen in the artificial garage lighting. The shape of the car gave it the look of a predator ready to pounce. It was nice to stare at and even better to drive.

“Hello, beautiful,” said Nick as he climbed into the driver’s seat. With a delicate paw, he turned the key. The engine grumbled to life, then settled on a low purr. Driving was something Nick rarely ever did considering the traffic, but today he needed his mind off of the only thing it wanted to think about. Unfortunately, with the memories as fresh as they were, this was easier said than done.

_Perhaps a little music_ , thought Nick as he turned on the radio.

“ _I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me…_ ”

“Nope,” said Nick as he changed the station.

“ _Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…_ ”

“Nuh-uh”

“ _I will let you down…_ ”

“No way”

“ _And I-I-I-I don’t want to fall in love…_ ”

“Not… right now,” said Nick as he flicked off the radio. “Great, that _was_ a good song.”

Arriving at the precinct early, Nick entered the main lobby with a neutral expression on his face. He politely greeted Clawhauser at the front desk, who offered heartfelt condolences for Judy’s injuries, hoping that she would be okay.

“Don’t worry, Spots. I saw her in the recovery ward. She’ll get better soon. Someone’s gotta be there to counter my personality!” he said, though the statement ate away at his gut.

“She’s not the only one I’m worried about Nick,” said the cheetah, “You two are really good friends. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Right as rain, buddy,” responded Nick, as he began making his way to the Bullpen. He couldn’t let Clawhauser see the visible pain that had seeped into his features. _Getting rusty there, Slick. Shit! That’s what she calls me now! Don’t think about her, you’ll fall apart if you do. Are Snarlof and Rhinowitz staring at me? Damnit! Hold it together! Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let it…_

The sound of someone saying “Hey, Wilde” made the fox practically jump out of his fur. Looking behind him, he saw Delgato approaching. “I heard the chief was letting you back today. Glad to see you’re medically a-okay.”

Nick relaxed somewhat. This he could talk about. “Yup! Can’t keep a good fox down!” he said as the two walked towards the Bullpen. Once they entered, Nick took his usual seat at the front. The massive chair felt so empty without… nope! He wasn’t going to think of her. This wasn’t the time to be thinking of that.

As he sat there, a few more officers entered the room, many of whom would greet him and ask how he was. He responded with a simple “hello” and “I’m doing fine” for each; recorded messages he could play again and again while keeping his walls intact. It wasn’t meant to be an impolite gesture. In fact he marveled at the notion that so many mammals were concerned for him. A fox! With imperfect timing, Nick’s musings were cut short by the entrance of Buffalo Butt himself.

Chief Bogo went through the list of assignments for every other officer in the room before he finally got to Nick. “Officer Wilde, desk work only today. Dismissed.”

“With all due respect, Chief, I want to work on finding the mammals that hurt my partner,” said Nick, with a tone that was severely lacking respect. The thoughts of his friend once again reared their ugly heads.

“I don’t care Wilde,” was the standardized response, “Your case has been handed to Officers Wolford and Fangmeyer. Frankly I should have made you stay home for your injuries, but, considering you and your partner’s shared sense of ungodly stubbornness, desk work is my attempt at a compromise. Don’t make me regret it,” this statement was delivered with steadfast finality.

“No sir,” responded the disgruntled vulpine, as he left the Bullpen for his office desk.

The perk of being the smallest members of the force was that Nick and Judy could share one, large desk comfortably. This, in turn, allowed for easy banter between the two. However, with Judy not there, Nick found the space utterly barren. He occasionally looked toward the opening in the cubicle, hoping to see the smiling, wonderful bunny bounding up to him. Instead, on one of his glances, he caught Officer Wolford looking in on him.

“Hey Wilde,” said the grey wolf. His ears were perked up and his tail was lazily swishing back and forth, indicating a calm demeanor. He and Nick had hit it off from Nick’s first day of work. It’s a canine thing. “Just letting you know I read your statement. Fang and I can handle the rest but if we need any more help we’ll defer to you, okay?”

“Sure thing, Wolfy,” said Nick, a look of actual gratitude on his face.

Wolford returned the smile. “That leopard sounds like a pain in the arse. Don’t worry, we’ll get the bastard,” he said as he left Nick’s cubicle.

“I don’t doubt it,” came the half hearted response.

( _ **Accompaniment** : All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix_)

The day dragged on as it had never done before. When the time came to clock out, Nick was more than ready to leave. Saying goodbye to Clawhauser at the front desk, he casually strolled to the parking garage entrance, and out into the concrete structure where his car was waiting. Driving out of the complex, Nick gunned the accelerator, letting the thrum of the engine fill his head. At first he was heading in the direction of home, however he soon realized another possible destination and quickly turned the car in the opposite direction, towards Savannah Regional Hospital.

_It would be nice to see her, just to make sure she’s getting better_ , thought Nick. Though he knew full well that it was a way to lessen his worries. His tail flicked in a happier state.

As he neared the hospital, Nick passed a large parking lot. It’s accompanying building was still under construction, as displayed by the scarce, industrial vehicles and trailers that dotted the tarmac surface.

One vehicle, however, stood out: a large, black Purcedes Benz van. To most passers by, the van would have meant nothing. Why would it? Hundreds, if not thousands of vans are used on a daily basis in the vast city-state of Zootopia. It’s existence was meaningless to everyone who did not know and require the operation behind it. Its exact specifications, coupled with its exact location parameters, could easily be overlooked by anyone.

Except for those who knew where to look. Green eyed, black pawed, russet-colored foxes included.

“No fucking way,” stated Nick aloud as he pulled over by the next building down. His mind raced on what to do. He didn’t have his service radio on him. He could dial 911, but his gut told him backup wouldn’t be there in time. Meowkov didn’t get to where he was by idling longer than business called for. It was a complete fluke that the fox and rabbit had stumbled upon him during a deal. Nick simply didn’t have the time.

He did, however, have his service pistol on him.

Dialing 911, Nick was greeted by the friendly, front desk cheetah. “Hey Claw, its Nick. I’ve got a visual on the gun sellers Ju… my partner and I encountered. They’re in a parking lot for Jaeger Industries off of Acacia Industrial Drive. It’s the building under construction. I’m going to detain them. Requesting backup. Wilde out,” Nick finished while hanging up before Clawhauser could respond.

Checking his firearm, Nick exited his car and cautiously approached the van. The few vehicles and trailers gave him good cover as he scoped out the area he was nearing. Eventually he was beside a large excavator, on the opposite side from the van and those who were with it. He could hear several voices. One in particular set his teeth on edge.

“I was told they would be here!” Meowkov shouted. A quick peak told Nick the leopard was standing by the rear doors of the van, which were facing in his direction, surrounded by eight other mammals, ranging from a wombat with a Howler and Koch MP5K to a moose wielding an RPD light machine gun as if it were a water pistol. Every mammal seemed on edge, especially Meowkov. “The Fangs are trying my patience. You told them where to find us, yes?”

“I assure you I gave them the right location,” retorted a wolf with a Kalashniklaw AKM slung over his shoulder. “Those stupid hyenas must have been laughing too loud to hear me!”

“Oi! Watch it!” cried the wombat, “I’ve got a cousin who's datin’ a hyena! Nicest bloke you’ll ever meet.”

“Fuckin’ inters,” spat a young jackal, his paw thumbed an unknown weapon concealed in his black shearling coat. “Is your cousin that desperate to fuck someone?”

“Are you desperate for an arse kickin’ cunt!?” snapped the wombat as he squared up to the jackal.

While every mammal seemed to be engrossed in this battle of progressivism, Nick seized the opportunity to round the tracked vehicle he was currently behind and level his pistol at Meowkov’s head.

“ZPD! Hands in the fucking air!” he shouted, causing every mammal to stop what they were doing and stare wide eyed at the uninvited guest.

In the warehouse, Nick’s snarl of intimidation was simply that. Here however, he looked like he was ready to kill.

And in the back of his head, he knew he was.

Unfortunately for Nick, the heartbeat thudding in his ears made it impossible to hear the mammal that snuck up behind him, knocked the gun out of his paw, and hoisted him into the air by the neck. As he struggled, Nick caught a glance of horns.

The ibex.

The ibex who hurt Judy.

“You did not heed my warning,” said Meowkov in a casual manner. “I cannot promise you or your partner mercy a second time.”

“When I find your bunny friend she’s gonna get a whooping!” said the ibex, his arm around Nick’s neck tightening. “I’ll make it hurt. She’ll beg for death when I’m done!”

Nick’s mind raced. In an instant he took in his surroundings with vividity. His body was like a compressed spring, waiting to be released, to snap back as it knew it could. No! He told himself he would not do this again! He couldn’t take the pain of knowing what he had done, so he buried these abilities for years.

_You won’t be able to take the pain of what will come next if you don’t do this now._

“A shame it had to end like this,” said Meowkov.

_Give yourself up to your training, your skills, your will that you had locked away for so long._

“You were truly…”

_Do what you were meant to do._

“...something special.”

_Fight_.

It was instantaneous. The ibex had a split second to look down as his captive dug their claws into his arm, causing him to slightly loosen his grip out of pain. The next moment saw the fox scratching his way upward towards the ibex’s head.

And the moment after that saw the fox bite into the ibex’s throat, and tear a large, sinuous chunk from it.

The other mammals watched in horror as their compatriot collapsed in a heap. He desperately grasped at his neck as a geyser of blood spurt forth. His face was contorted in agony; frozen in a macabre snapshot of pain. A pool of crimson collected around his still writhing form as their attention returned to the fox, who proceeded to spit out what was once part of a jugular. His hackles were raised threateningly. His claws were extended. They glinted red in the dusky, fluorescent glow of the surrounding work lamps. His teeth were bared with a wicked snarl. His eyes held a truly predatory gleam.

“You!” was the only exclamation from Ivan Meowkov.

“Yeah,” said Alpha, with a single wipe at the blood on his muzzle. “Me.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to add music to certain scenes. These are songs that I would listen to while writing parts of the story to help establish a tone and pacing. These songs will range in genre from rock to pop to orchestral and maybe some swing depending on the moment. You can choose listen to them or you can choose not to. I’m a disembodied voice inside your head used to express the written word, not your mother.


	5. Reaction

_( **Accompaniment** : Blue Orchid by The White Stripes)_

Time returned to its usual pace. The initial shock dissipated to be replaced by anger. A coiled spring was let loose.

As the group of mammals drew their weapons, Nick ducked behind the body of the fallen ibex. He tucked himself against the corpse as a salvo of rounds dug into it from the opposite side while others still smacked against the pavement, kicking up chunks of asphalt. Scrambling for his service pistol, Nick blindly fired a few shots from cover, satisfied to hear his attackers scramble along with the unmistakable howl of a wolf being hit. This gave him the chance to pull away from his cadaver shield and dash for a nearby cargo container. Peeking around the corner on the other side, Nick saw that the jackal had had the same idea, and taken refuge behind the white container as well. The fox took the opportunity of surprise and fired his last two rounds into the jackal, which skewered him in the torso and head, respectively. Nick approached the dead canine and appropriated his until-now-hidden weapon: an automatic Flock 18. He checked its magazine ammo count and, not wanting to wait for any retaliation, jumped and scrambled up the side of the container. Once on top of it, he had a perfect vantage point to see the moose with the light machine gun, apparently hunting for him below.

_Other way ‘round dipshit._

“Hey” was all the forewarning the moose got as the fox lept onto his antlers and pulled the trigger on the automatic pistol, letting a burst of rounds puncture the moose’s skull. The antlered mammal toppled over, while Nick fell with him and rolled across the ground. With an effortless recovery, the fox righted himself and fired another hail of bullets at a caracal, smattering the cat’s head and chest with red blossoms. The caracal was still falling as Nick turned and fired the remaining rounds at a large, brown-furred wolverine. One round caught his muscular arm, but the well built mammal seemed wholly unfazed. In fact, he growled maliciously, which in conjunction with his claws and strong body gave him an absolutely terrifying appearance. That is, until the spent pistol itself collided with his nose, breaking it and causing him to stumble. He fired a few rounds from his MP5 in vain as the vulpine charged in and struck him across the jaw. The return swipe met only air as Nick ducked out of the way and delivered a succession of punches and slashes to the wolverine’s torso. The fox’s arms moved with lightning speed as he grappled with his opponent, always keeping the MP5 pointed away from him while placing hits across the wolverine’s body. Eventually, when an opening was found to do so, he grabbed the submachine gun, angled it up at the wolverine’s neck, and blasted a hole through it.

No sooner had this been accomplished, when Nick’s heightened senses picked up something behind him. The scuffle of claws, the hint of a growl, the smell of anger, all screamed at once for Nick to move, fast. His reaction time took away the brunt of the impact, but the wolf still got his claws in Nick’s shirt and sent him tumbling a good two or three feet. When he had recovered, Nick noticed the MP5 was not with him, and there was a more pressing matter. The wolf reached into his jacket and brandished a large hunting knife. It’s tempered blade carried a dull sheen. Apart from this, Nick saw a sizable chunk of the wolf’s ear was missing. Coagulating blood surrounded the wound.

“You missed,” said the larger canine. He flipped the knife over in his paw and readied his stance. “I won’t.”

In response, Nick held his paws at his sides, claws extended. He began to circle the wolf in a hunched position. His teeth were bared. “Come on Fido, let's finish this.”

The wolf lunged at Nick. His knife was a blur as it cut through the air. But only air was met as the fox expertly dodged his attacks. When he was certain of an opening, the vulpine would throw in a jab or slash. The wolf, in his furious advances, was unaware that Nick was systematically picking apart his technique. Probing for weaknesses. Looking for an advantage.

Said advantage came in the form of a desperate lunge with the knife that acted only to bring the wolf’s paw just above the ground. Without hesitation, Nick stepped on the wayward paw, throwing off the balance of his opponent, while simultaneously shifting his weight into the wolf, causing him to tumble over. This was the perfect opportunity for Nick to snatch up the knife and bring it down directly on the wolf’s rib cage, splitting through his sternum and puncturing what lay below. The wolf gave a shuttering gasp, then fell limp.

With another enemy down, Nick scanned for Meowkov. He witnessed him clambering into the black van, his remaining cohorts not far behind. The fox found and slung the MP5 over his shoulder then, on all fours, sprinted at the fleeing… _prey_.

_I’ve got you now_.

Unfortunately for Nick, one last obstacle made its presence known. The wombat, either in bravery or stupidity, turned to face him, paws working furiously to lock the primer handle on his MP5K. In a last ditch effort, Nick dug his paws into the ground and pounced forward. The marsupial barely raised his gun halfway before freezing at the sight of a fox, claws outstretched and teeth bared ferociously, lunging at him. A squeak of terror was followed the sickening sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh. Canines tore like daggers through the fox’s victim. When Nick stood a second later, the wombat was nothing more than a bloody mess.

A second was all Meowkov needed.

Tires squealed as the black van sped off. Nick fired the remaining rounds in his MP5 at it in an inevitably futile effort. The gun could only click pathetically with each trigger pull by the time the van reached the road. It turned sharply and headed in the direction Nick was going when the encounter happened in the first place.

As the adrenaline died down, Nick tossed the gun aside and surveyed the damage, or carnage. Whatever appropriate word there was in his mind for this scenario refused to make its presence known. Bodies lay strewn across the impromptu battlefield, pockmarks and bullet holes dented every nearby surface, and coating everything in a fine, reflective veneer was blood. Untold quantities of it stained Nick’s fur around his muzzle and paws, while ruining the casual button shirt and pants he had been wearing. As he took all of this in, as the reality of what he had done came crashing down upon him, the fox had only a single response to the situation.

“Sweet cheese and crackers.”

 

When it came to diligence in the workplace, Alec Wolford was a cut above. So hard working was he that, along with his partner Irene Fangmeyer, he had been recently promoted to detective, and given the task of finding the mammal that had hurt the two most beloved cops in the ZPD. Of course, even a powerhouse like Wolford could run into his limits. This was a perfect example of such a time.

“Couldn’t Wilde have run into the bastard on lunch break? I don’t like being called out to the field when my shift is already supposed to be over. I’ve got places to be,” said the wolf with a half serious tone.

“Did you think this gig would be that much of a cakewalk?” was the tiger’s response. She gave Wolford an incredulous look from the passenger seat of the black, unmarked sedan he was driving. “We’re investigators. We _investigate_ anything regarding our case. Also, you can’t call chewing on a stick ‘places to be’.”

“Okay, that shite is an ancient stereotype. Cats like you still groom yourselves and yet you still somehow manage to get less flak for that!” retorted Wolford. A red tint found its way into the skin of Fangmeyer’s muzzle and face. “I’m just saying it would be nice to get to enjoy the better hours that were pitched to me when I took this ‘gig’.”

“Well, you know what they say: misery loves company,” said Fangmeyer, as she resumed staring out the window.

“And I’m glad to have it. The company, I mean,” replied Wolford. He flashed a light smile her way. “Sorry to act like such an arse. I’m just hoping Wilde hasn’t done anything rash.”

“It’s fine,” said the tiger, returning the smile. “You know him and Hopps, they can’t do anything that doesn’t involve heroically diving in head first.”

Wolford let out a short laugh. “Yeah, they compliment each other nicely, like a fine wine and cheese,” This made Fangmeyer laugh as well.

Soon, however, her laughter was replaced by a pensive state. “Hey. Do you think they are, or would ever… you know…”

He knew.

“Hmm. I’m not sure,” said Wolford. “When I saw Wilde today he looked absolutely miserable. She certainly means a lot to him. Can’t say I’d put it beyond them to end up together. If I did they’d probably reach that point just to spite me.”

“It’s a little weird though, right? A fox and a rabbit…” The tiger trailed off before jumping suddenly. “I’m not against it or anything! I don’t know if you’re friends with anyone in an interspecies relationship! Congrats if they are! I’m just saying you don’t see that exact pairing very often.” She practically mumbled the last sentence. _Smooth Irene._

“No! No, I completely understand what you mean!” came the hasty response. “I think it’s important to like someone for who they are, not what they are.”

Wolford glanced at his partner. Her ears were splayed out as her tail flitted back and forth. Her claws scratched at her neck nervously. Her long, lean body shifted in her seat. Her eyes, as blue as sapphires… _fucking hell. Maybe what they are can be pretty enticing too._

Wolford wasn’t one to hope. Growing up in a foster care system had taught him that hope can be a dangerous thing. However, hope was all he had at the moment, so hope was what he would hold on to for now.

Thankfully, any uncomfortable silence was short lived as the detectives pulled into the parking lot fitting Nick’s description. As they rounded a construction trailer, Wolford applied the brakes, and the two stared in morbid attention at the carnage before them.

“Holy shit,” said Fangmeyer, taking it all in. As her gaze drifted from body to body, she caught sight of something on the ground, a creature painted in blood and poorly defined in the work lights. Whatever it was, it set her fur on end and caused a shiver to corse down her spine. She pointed at it. “What’s that?”

Getting out of the car, Wolford noticed the creature and began to slowly approach it. That is, until he realized what he was looking at. He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of vague recognition on his face. In the center of all the destruction, sitting with its legs tucked up and its tail wrapped around its body, was a fox.

“Wilde?”

The fox seemed to recognize its name, its ears perking up slightly, and looked up from its huddled state. Its eyes were glazed over. A smear of deep red covered its muzzle. After a few seconds of dead silence, the fox gave a melancholy smile. “Hey Wolfy.”

Wolford walked closer, as Fangmeyer got out of the car behind him, and lowered himself onto his haunches. As per the visually expressive nature of canines, his tail was tucked between his legs and his ears were folded back in an attempt to appear less threatening. His evolved, rational mind knew such actions were somewhat ridiculous. This was Nick! His friend and brother in blue! However, the older part of his conscious reminded him there was still a “somewhat” in that wording. Not knowing where to begin, Wolford asked the obvious question, “What happened here, Wilde?”

“Uh,” began Nick as he looked at his surroundings. “Zero days since this construction site’s last accident?”

While Wolford had been expecting one of Wilde’s certified poorly timed jokes, he did not expect to hear the sound of a muffled chortle coming from behind him. Glancing, he noticed his tigress partner barely holding it together. Her paw at her mouth concealed an obvious grin.

“Oh come on!” She finally blurted out, startling the two canines, “How the fuck am I supposed to act here? And then he pulls that one out of his bag of fucking one liners? Fuck me!”

Wolford snorted at this. Nick gave a short chuckle. The lingering tension in the air had all but vanished.

“You mind calling in a forensic team, Fang?” asked Wolford. “We’re gonna need someone to at least clean this up.” Fangmeyer gave a nod and turned for the sedan. Wolford turned back to Nick. “I’m guessing your plan to hold them didn’t go the way you thought?”

“Not really, no,” said Nick as he got to his feet, “I was blindsided by one of their cronies. I didn’t see him coming, and I had to fight for my life.”

“Oh,” said Wolford, “Well I’d say you defended yourself rather well. Did you get all of them or…?”

“No, the leopard was here but he got away.”

“Okay,” said Wolford. “Well, I can honestly say I did not expect to see what I’m looking at. You know I have to inform the chief about this. You may have been acting as law enforcement and, ahem, defending yourself, but you were still off duty. It’s up to him how to treat this situation.”

Nick nodded his head in acknowledgment, his features carried a look of resignation. “I understand.”

Wolford placed a paw on Nick’s shoulder and began leading him to the sedan. “Don’t worry Wilde, I’m not arresting you. Hell, you’ll probably be commended for your actions,” he said as he opened the left rear door. Once Nick was inside, Wolford went to the driver’s side door, entered the vehicle, and started it up with a push of a button. As the sedan started to pull out of the parking lot, Wolford turned to Fangmeyer and said, “Call Bogo and explain what happened.”

“And what did happen, exactly?” said Fangmeyer as she looked from the wolf to the fox in the rear seat. “How the hell did you take out a group of heavily armed mammals by yourself?”

Nick stared out his side window at the passing city. At this time of night it was lit up in its most visual electric splendor. However, for all its wondrous appearances, it could not quell the sick feeling that had wormed its way into the pit of his stomach. What had he just done? All his fear, all his pain, all his hatred of the past day had unleashed a part of him he swore to never use again. Then again, one does not simply forget five years of their life. Five years of fighting, five years of trading one battle for the next, five years of learning and forging technique to defeat any opponent for the mission, and he thought that two years off would negate such ability? He was Alpha! The apex predator! Trained to be the best at target elimination! To attempt to smother his purpose was to attempt to hold back the tides with a broom. But there was a more pressing matter. A far worse realization that entered his mind, looming over him with unbridled malice. _What am I going to tell Judy?_

Nick looked up at the tigress, his face an expressionless void. “I guess it was just the right place at the wrong time.”

 

If there was one thing Chief Harold Bogo hated more than most things, it was being disturbed away from work, by work.

The chief of police was relaxing, enjoying a glass of fine whiskey, as he would do at the end of a long day, when the peace was shattered by the buzzing of his phone. He contemplated to himself the merits of crushing it in his hooves before answering in a grumbling tone. “Hello?”

After a brief pause, “Officer Fangmeyer, there better be a good explanation as to why you are calling me on my personal number.”

As the Cape buffalo listened to Fangmeyer, his expression morphed from irritance to confusion to disbelief in a matter of seconds. “What?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this scene was actually the first thing that developed in my mind before a story was even thought up. The idea was; you know how Nick is the fandom punching bag? Well, what if he punched back?
> 
> 1000 hits and nearly 50 kudos! What’s this feeling welling up inside me? Gratitude? Not sure I like it... 
> 
> In all seriousness, thank you for the support thus far. It’s fantastic to see such entertainment derived from something I’ve made. 
> 
> Just a warning, I might not be able to update next week due to midterms. Then again I might need the extra time regardless. These next chapters are turning out far too convoluted for their own good.


	6. Paradise Lost

The air was stiflingly tense.

Ivan Petrovich Meowkov hated losing. He hated it with a passion. A slight screw up was understandable. Only mammalian, right? A calculated retreat was fine as well, so long as it saved what was necessary to fight another day. But losing? Losing was something to be despised above all other things. Losing could never be tolerated. A single loss could snowball into total failure if left unchecked. And yet, here he was, on the losing end of a battle with a mammal whom a day ago he was certain could not harm him. It was a loss he had paid for in both mammals and precious merchandise.

“God damn _suka blyad_!” Ivan hurled a scotch glass at the wall of his study, shattering it along with the airborne tension instantaneously.

“Shame, I quite liked that glass,” said the old fox without even a hint of edge in his voice.

“Shut up!” yelled Meowkov. “You should have known this would happen! He is _your_ hitmammal! And now Alpha will hunt you, me, and the entire operation to extinction!”

“First of all, _was_ my hitmammal. Secondly…”

“I don’t care!” shouted the leopard. His fur bristled as he did so. “Just do what I pay you to do and find a solution to the problem.”

“Any special requests?”

“Just get him out of my fur.”

“Killing him outright would be a challenge.”

“Then think of another way.”

“An ultimatum?”

“That is acceptable.”

The fox rubbed his muzzle as he contemplated his options. After a long minute, he spoke. “How has Marcus been feeling lately?”

Meowkov furrowed his eyebrows, then all at once his body relaxed. A minute smirk graced his muzzle as he nodded in understanding. “Anxious.”

 

The air was stiflingly tense.

Nick sat in an oversized chair facing an oversized buffalo, who was staring daggers at him. He dared not move out of a perfectly reasonable fear of being pulverized where he sat. Wolford and Fangmeyer stood outside the door to Chief Bogo’s office, safe from the aura of terror within. After what felt like an eternity, the chief finally spoke. His tone was patient and menacing. “Care to explain why my forensics team is scraping half a dozen mammals off the sidewalk, Officer Wilde?”

Nick knew this tone all to well. This was Bogo’s moments-before-detonation tone. This was the tone he used when he was about to unload a magazine’s worth of 7.62mm full metal punishment into one of his officers. But Nick wasn’t going to take it. He was fresh off of an adrenaline high and tormented with constant thoughts and worries pertaining to the rabbit he _loved_. There! He admitted it! He loved her! He loved her more than anything in the world! Regardless, Nick Wilde decided to do what he did best: disrespect authority. “I’m sorry Big Chief Horn-Head, the next time I’m held against my will by a group of armed mammals I’ll ask politely to be released first.”

“Wilde!” shouted Bogo. The proverbial dam burst forth. “Don’t test me right now! I have no idea how you got out of there alive, much less turned the tables on those unfortunate saps. I’m getting reports back of everything from gunshot wounds to goddamn maulings! But right now, I don’t care how you did it. What I do care about is whether or not you are capable of following orders, which you clearly are not, considering I told you specifically not to go after them! ”

“I didn’t go after them! I stumbled on another one of their deals!”

“And your first thought was to detain a group of armed mammals by yourself?” jabbed the buffalo.

“What should I have done then?!” Nick threw right back. He was on his feet now, squared up against an immovable object. “Huh?! Let them go? Let them get another chance to hurt someone?! Yeah, that sounds like real grade-A police work right there! Give whoever thought of that one a fucking medal!”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk back to me!” bellowed the chief. Nick flinched involuntarily at this, but to his credit was still standing, glaring death itself in the face. After a moment, Bogo appeared to rein in his emotions. “I gave you a direct order to stay away from this case, and you disobeyed. You may have been through a lot, but you should have never put yourself in that situation to begin with. I expect better judgment from my officers.”

The chief sighed. “I’m putting you on suspension, until I have determined a more appropriate course of action.”

“Chief, I…”

“Did I stutter?!” yelled Bogo before Nick could say anything substantial in return. He held the todd’s gaze with an iron grip. “You are dismissed.”

Nick felt his insides drop out. He kept as stoic an expression as he could on his face as he ground out a “yes, sir”, hopped down from the chair, and turned to leave the chief’s office. He crossed the entrance threshold while pushing the door open with probably more force than necessary, considering the speed with which it moved on its hinges, though he couldn’t care less at this point. Everything was falling apart. His actions had hurt his career, possibly permanently. All that time trying to prove himself, all that time trying to make himself a better mammal, for her, appeared meaningless now.

_This is what I get for going with my instincts._

His tail drooped and his ears fell back once he was outside the office. Appearances be damned! He passed Wolford and Fangmeyer, who were conversing in the hall, waiting to be allowed in to see the chief.

“I had one of the field techs drive your car back to the precinct,” said Wolford. “It’s in the parking building on the second story. That’s a nice Jag you have. He said he was sorry to part with it so soon.”

“Thanks Wolford,” said Nick. No nickname, no quip, just a brief moment of gratitude. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Wait,” said Fangmeyer. Nick had turned back to leave but stopped abruptly. His body visibly tensed, paws clenched tightly. “What happened in there? We heard the chief shouting something. What did he say to you?”

“Just that I have to take a break for a little while. No biggie,” Nick half-lied. Without so much as a goodbye, Nick carried on walking. He continued forward with an even gait down the hall, down the stairs, across the main lobby, and finally out into the parking structure. When he was certain he was alone, Nick’s walls finally collapsed.

“ _FUCK!_ ” he shouted at the top of his lungs. In a blind fury he kicked the tire of his Jaguar as hard as he could, only realizing what he had done when his right foot flared in pain.

“Ow,” he said in a disheartened tone. He ignored the aching appendage while he got in the car. As he exited the parking structure, Nick gunned the accelerator, hoping to get as far away from the building as fast as he could.

Unbeknownst to him however, the driver of a grey sport sedan, parked just outside the concrete building, shifted into drive, and began to pursue the vulpine from a distance.

 

As Chief Bogo watched his only fox officer storm out of his office, the Cape buffalo let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. He slouched against his chair while simultaneously rubbing his temples. _I swear, sometimes that Wilde is a bloody kit. He’s acting like that gang is an old arch nemesis._

_Well, what if it is?_

An idea dawned on Bogo. A few puzzle pieces started to fit together in his head to form… something. And yet it was still something! It was a something that might actually get him answers. As he mused over this something, his two newest detectives, Wolford and Fangmeyer, entered his office. He didn’t mind their intrusion, of course. He had told them to enter when Officer Wilde had left. In fact, their presence was just what he needed to help him turn this new something into a fully realized… okay, so metaphors were a difficult concept for him. That wasn’t the point!

“Detectives,” acknowledged the chief. “I have a request regarding your case…”

“What did you do to Wilde?” blurted out the wolf detective.

“As I was saying!” said Bogo with a raised voice. He was getting more than a little irked with the constant interruptions to his statements as of late. “I want the two of you to dig into Wilde’s records. Look for anything you can find. I’m thinking this case is far more personal to him than I first believed.”

“We will do that, sir,” stated the tigress. “But only if you tell us what you did to him first.”

“You do not get to negotiate with me, detective,” said the chief with ire in his voice.

“And you have no right keeping us in the dark, sir,” said Wolford in an equal temperament.

Bogo gave an exasperated huff and rubbed his temples some more. He was tired of fighting. “I have put Officer Wilde on suspension for the time being.”

“Suspension!” exclaimed Fangmeyer. “That poor fox just went through hell! Suspension is the last thing he needs right now! Have you seen the place where Wilde was attacked? It looks like a fucking battlefield!”

“A battlefield I’m told he caused!” retorted Chief Bogo. “Let me be perfectly clear, I am not firing one of my best officers… and if either of you tell him that he is one of my best _both_ of you will be demoted. Am I clear? Good. This suspension is meant to keep Wilde _away_ from danger. He clearly has a link to these gun runners, specifically the leopard he described, and I want to know why. So, would the two of you _please_ go through his records so that we can help him.”

The two detectives stared for a moment, their minds racing at what the chief was implying. After a few seconds, both the wolf and the tigress stood, saluted the chief with a “yes, sir” apiece, and exited the office.

“It feels wrong digging through a coworker’s past,” said Fangmeyer as she and Wolford headed for the stairs. “And a friend at that.”

“True,” replied Wolford. “But Wilde needs our help, and if he won’t tell us what the problem is, we’ll have to dig until we find it. I’m not giving up on him so easily.”

“You’re a good friend, Alec,” said Fangmeyer, brushing his shoulder with her paw. A tingle coursed it’s way down Wolford’s back at the gesture. His eyes moved up to meet hers. They held each other’s gaze for a fleeting moment, expressions illuminated with the glimmer of something… deep, before pulling away. Wolford checked his watch to keep Fangmeyer from seeing the red tinge that had seeped into his features.

“So much for my precious hours of chewing on a stick,” said Wolford, getting a laugh out of his partner. “C’mon. It’s already late, and we got work to do.”

 

_“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”_

_“Only in the mornings.”_

_“You sent a hired gun after him!”_

_“Would you mind speaking up I can’t quite hear you over your shouting.”_

_“Can you be serious just for once?! You just compromised an important asset that we were certain only half a year ago no longer existed!”_

_“I have done nothing of the sort.”_

_“You sent a cleaner to execute a hit on him!”_

_“Actually, it’s technically not a hit. The cleaner was instructed to first attempt a monetary compromise. Alpha wouldn’t turn down such a deal.”_

_“But you think the asset will do just that this time, don’t you. That it will trigger a retaliation.”_

_“Nicholas.”_

_“What?”_

_“His name is Nicholas.”_

_“Don’t pull that sentimental crap on me. He’s an operational contingency, pure and simple. Don’t try to make any more of him just because he’s your…”_

_“I’m fully aware of his relation to me, that’s not the point. The point is that Nicholas is being driven by something unprecedented in the history of Alpha’s operation. He found a purpose beyond what we ever offered him. What we could ever offer him. More than that, he found someone whom he cares about more than anything in the world. Someone he would die fighting to protect. All we have to do is aim that mindset at a target, and pull the trigger.”_

_“You told me your theory of his relation to Officer Hopps. I’d say it’s crazy but the past twenty-four hours have all but proven me wrong.”_

_“I’m glad you see it my way. His love for her is what I’m counting on to drive this to its end.”_

_“On the other paw, there are far too many variables to know for sure what he is capable of now. That incident two years ago left him broken, and Meowkov has become too big of a problem to be handled by a fox with a questionable trigger finger.”_

_“You do realize what species of mammal is on the opposite end of this phone call?”_

_“Cut the crap! That wasn’t a jab at you and you know it! All I’m saying is that you better be right about the return of Alpha.”_

_“I never said this was Alpha, nor do I think it is he, at least not in the way we created him. I do think, however, that whatever he is now, he will follow through on this mission to the end, regardless of his knowledge of his involvement. I will personally see to it being that way.”_

_“I hope you‘re right.”_

_“Have I ever let you down before, sir?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello boys!  
> I’m baaaaaaaaaack!  
> (Rams F-18 into fandom mothership)
> 
> I apologize both proactively and retroactively for inconsistent updates. Real life is a jerk. 
> 
> Also, at the time of this writing, 1200 plus hits (Thank you), and 69 kudos (Innuendo-laden thank you)!


	7. Bet You Didn’t Know

The world faded into existence. It had done so before, but she had been just too tired to remain there for long.

To pass the time in this ebb-and-flow state, she would dream. Dreams consisting of soft, red fur and piercing, green eyes filled her with a warm peace as she lingered here. But the dreams ended, as they always do, and she found herself far more acutely aware of her surroundings. In particular, the frequent beep of something nearby, which shattered her comfort, caused her to open an eye in search of the offending sound.

Her first observation was white. White everywhere. The walls and ceiling were stained with it. A soft sheet of white covered her body. A nearby window showed the early dawn beginning to peak between white blinds, dousing the surrounding white with golden illumination. Looking to her left, she saw an expensive-looking EKG machine; the source of her discomfort! How to get rid of it? She saw a few wires sticking out of it, and followed their paths until they ended abruptly at her arm. _Well that settles that_.

With careful dexterity, or as much as she could muster, Judy grabbed the cords attached to her arm and first delicately, then forcefully, pulled. As soon as the wires detached, the sound went from a gentle beep to a harsh whine. It crashed against her sensitive ears like a tidal wave. As she frantically tried to fix what she broke, a young possum and an older jackrabbit, both wearing hospital scrubs, burst through the door. Evidentially they had been expecting a patient in their death throes. However, when they saw the panicked rabbit desperately trying to wrangle the EKG machine by its chords, they both burst out laughing.

“I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Judy. “The noise was getting to me so I thought I’d just unplug the machine from my heartbeat but I didn’t think it would do this!”

“It’s fine! It’s fine!” soothed the possum, as he fiddled with the machine, bringing its tyrannical noise to an end. “This is much better to the alternative. Trust me.”

“Still, I’m really sorry,” said Judy.

“Don’t think anything of it dear,” said the jackrabbit, a sympathetic expression adorning her slightly wrinkled features. “You seem to be recovering well. You’re a very lucky rabbit. Though I recommend you watch your shoulder for a bit.”

Judy noticed the bandages on her left arm snaking up to her neck and, with an apologetic look on her face, returned to a more comfortable position.

That is, until the memories of why she was here came flooding back.

_Warehouse, gunshots, fighting, pain, leopard, Nick…_

_Nick!_

A fear she had never known gripped her as she shot up in bed, startling the two nurses.

“Nick! Where’s Nick!?” she said frantically. “My partner! He was injured and…”

“Don’t worry, dear,” said the jackrabbit as she got Judy to lay down again. “You mean the fox right?” Judy nodded, “He was sent home with some minor bruising the day you both arrived. Though he did stay at your bedside for a while.”

“Oh. good,” said Judy. She was mulling over the last part of that statement. _He was at my bedside? Sweet cheese and crackers!_ A pleasant feeling swept past the rabbit for a fleeting moment. What it was she could not say. She would have to examine its true nature at a later time. “How long was he with me?”

“Several hours at least. The attending doctor said he could hang around,” said the jackrabbit, as she checked Judy’s shoulder and other ailments. Her kind features morphed into those of pensiveness. “It was… interesting. I can’t say I’ve seen a fox act that way towards anyone.”

Judy’s expression hardened. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know foxes…”

“No. No, I don’t _know_ foxes,” said Judy with some force behind her words. “But I do know Nick, and what I know is that my partner, my best friend,” _my fox_ “was probably really worried for me. As I would have been for him!”

“Ma’am, please calm down,” the jackrabbit spoke in a stern tone. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy left in her voice.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Margaret! Do you mind telling me why my unconscious patient is shouting?” Judy watched as a Lynx in a white lab coat barged into the room. Despite his age, his eyes held a livid glare. “Unconscious mammals don’t normally do that.”

“Doctor Pierce!” exclaimed the jackrabbit, obviously Margaret. “I was about to get you!”

“Well, luckily for you, my hearing is as fantastic as ever,” said the doctor. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to check on my not-so-unconsciously shouting patient.”

With a stern nod, Margaret and the possum nurse both left the room. Doctor Pierce sat down on the edge of Judy’s bed, pulled out a pen light, and shined it at her eyes. “Sorry about Margaret. She’s a good nurse but she can be a bit hot headed.”

“No, I’m sorry,” replied Judy. “I shouldn’t have instigated it. I’m just tired of all this… this _bigotry_ against other species!”

“Hey, we all want to change the world,” said Pierce as he finished examining her eyes for dilation and moved on to her shoulder wound. “The key is to understand that it won’t change overnight. You gotta keep at it one mammal at a time.”

“I guess,” said Judy.

“You know, if it’s any consolation, on behalf of all us meat-eaters I want to thank you for uncovering that Nighthowler debacle a while back. You cleared out a lot of fears and made the city a lot brighter for us.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. Just doing my duty,” said Judy, at a loss for anything else to say. Sure she had heard of a statistically sharp decrease in public speciesism in the months that followed her famous case (knowledge of the truth can really change a mammal), and Serendipity knows how many celebrities and politicians thanked her and Nick for their work, but it was still a miraculous thing to see such praise from all types of mammals. She had truly made a difference in the world. _Not without some foxy help, of course._

Doctor Pierce finished his examinations and wrote some notes down on a clipboard he had brought with him. “Okay. Dialation of the pupils has subsided. Shoulder looks pretty much together, more or less. You’re recovering quite well. Just don’t use that arm too much for a couple weeks. I’ll call Chief Bogo and inform him you're awake.” With that, the doctor took his leave.

As she lay in bed, Judy thought back through everything that led to this moment. She racked her brain for anything useful, her police-certified analytics working at full power. As she went over what was spoken moments before she blacked out, one statement in particular stood out.

_I take it he has not told you about me, otherwise old work would have been dredged up and you would have certainly never let him in the academy. More likely you would have arrested him!_

That snow leopard knew Nick! But how? And what did he mean by “old work”? Did Nick work for this leopard? He would have told her about this, wouldn’t he? _Peas and carrots Judy! Now isn’t the time for personal concerns! Concentrate on your job!_ She took a deep breath, exhaled, and compiled a more logical train of thought.

_Okay. Here is what I know. Nick worked for, or in proxy too, that snow leopard. The leopard is an illegal arms dealer so Nick would have had access to guns. That explains why he is so good with them! Now, the leopard said something about “respect” for Nick. That was why he let us live. Whatever Nick did must have been important. There are probably only a few favors in the criminal world that merit that kind of respect; setting up deals, leading a group of thugs, contract kille…_

The train of thought derailed catastrophically, strewing flaming wreckage throughout Judy’s mind. She cupped her paws to her muzzle as a horrible idea, a revelation, rose from the ashes of this chaos.

_Oh Nick! What have you done?_

_  
( **Accompaniment** : Dangerous by Big Data)_

  
Chief Bogo wasn’t much of a morning mammal. He would have like them better if they started later.

As he entered Precinct One at 6:30 exactly, the chief gave his customary gruff acknowledgement to Clawhauser, who responded with a far more lively, cordial one, as was tradition. Though he didn’t show it, Bogo’s spirits lifted ever so slightly at this exchange, as was also tradition.

Instead of heading for his office first, as per further tradition, the chief decided to stop by the detectives’ offices to see if the wolf-tiger duo had found any leads. He was confident they had dredged up something of use.

What he didn’t expect to find was the blizzard of paperwork that had swept through the shared office. Documents of various records cluttered every surface. In the eye of this storm was Wolford and Fangmeyer, both passed out in their chairs, both leaning against each other, with Fangmeyer’s strong arm involuntarily wrapped around the smaller wolf. At the sharp “ahem” from their boss, the canine woke with a start, startling his feline partner, causing both to topple out of their chairs, sending a cascade of paper down with them. They scrambled to their feet simultaneously.

“Sir!” shouted Wolford and Fangmeyer, respectively. Chief Bogo eyed them both with incredulousness as they stood at attention. Their eyes were bloodshot and fur ragged. _I’ll make sure to give them both time off after this, and as much extra pay as I can._

“Detectives,” acknowledged the buffalo, allowing both to settle at ease. “How goes the search?”

“Uhh… as good as it could be, sir,” said Fangmeyer.

Wolford followed up with, “We’ve gone through as much as we could on Wilde’s background. Medical history, tax history, criminal record, you name it.”

“And?” came the short response.

“Well…” started Fangmeyer, as she straightened her outfit. It was clear these were the same clothes they had both worn yesterday. “There’s surprisingly little about Wilde. He has no criminal record as far as we found. His place of residence was the same for about five years, corresponding with steady income, before a big gap of two years, with far less activity, followed by a new place of residence barely a month ago, right when he started work at this precinct.”

“What do you mean by ‘a big gap’?” asked Bogo.

“I mean a period of absolutely nothing,” said Fangmeyer. “No credit card purchases, no bank statements, no place of residence, not even a specific occupation. He was listed as self employed, but last year he reported no earnings in that time.”

“Tax evasion?” asked the chief.

“I’m not entirely certain, sir,” continued the tigress. “With no place of residence and no major purchases I think he was actually receiving little to no income. He might have been homeless.”

Bogo furrowed his eyebrows at this news. “What was he doing before the gap?”

“That’s where this get really interesting,” said Wolford. He shifted through a few papers before appearing to find what he was looking for, and continued. “Five years, self employed with annual earnings of seventy-five thousand. That’s over two hundred bucks a day! Whatever his job was, it was lucrative.”

“Any ideas what it could have been?” asked Bogo.

“Nothing in particular. One where he would know a high value smuggling ring well,” said Wolford. He did, in fact, have an idea, but he didn’t want to say it. None of the three mammals in the office wanted to. “But the year before that his occupation is indicated far more obviously.”

“And that is…?”

“Sealed under federal authorization,” said Wolford. “Which could only mean he was employed by the government.”

“Or military,” suggested the chief in a dark tone. It was the perfect starting point for such skills the fox seemed to posess. The puzzle pieces began to form a coherent picture in Bogo’s mind, and he did not like what they were depicting.

“You think he was military sir?” asked Fangmeyer.

“At one point, maybe. That could be where he got his start as a… combat specialist.” _There’s something missing though. Something we’re not seeing in these records._

“What about before that?” questioned Bogo. Nick was registered at the precinct as thirty-three years old. Surely he had more than eight years of history to uncover.

“That’s the thing sir,” said Fangmeyer, “There is no before. Here,” she handed him a paper that had the words “Birth Certificate” written across the top. As the chief examined it, his eyes grew wide.

_Who the fuck is this fox?_

The three mammals stood there, baffled at the nature of a friend they had worked with on a daily basis, until a ringing work phone brought them from their dazed states. Wolford was the one to answer it.

“Yeah?... Hey Clawhauser… Yes the chief’s here… What?... Fantastic! I’ll let him know!” He hung up and turned to Chief Bogo. “The hospital called! Hopps is awake and on the mend!”

“Good,” said Bogo, hiding the unprecedented elation he felt at the news of his officer’s recovery. “Get your car. I want both of you there to ask Hopps about her side of what happened at that warehouse.”

“Yes sir!” the detectives responded in unison.

 

It is unspoken knowledge among predators that the base desire to hunt has never truly left their evolved minds.

It sits, deep within the consciousness. A culmination of 3.8 billion years of natural selection. Of course, that does not entail that all evolved predators are killers, nor does that mean evolved prey species are morally superior (as those who know a certain sheep could attest to). In fact, this desire to hunt has become what many in the civilized world refer to as a “drive”. It’s this drive that had led many predators to hold positions of power in politics, military, and even industry.

Then again, there were still some who took this desire at its most base level. Marcus Babou was one such mammal.

His orders were to follow the fox to his place of residence (It was obvious he would have first gone to the precinct. Marcus could easily track him from there), then confront him with the payment. He had heard of Alpha’s work. Furthermore, he knew of the assassin’s standards. He knew the fox wouldn’t turn down an offering as substancial as this. If he did, well, the fox better hope he was as good as he once was. Marcus was certain he had to be getting up there in age. Meanwhile, at twenty-six, Marcus was in the prime of his life. He had spent years pulling small hits and attacks on rival gangs for Meowkov. But now? With the chance to take down a legend? How could he refuse?

As per his instructions, Marcus had followed the fox home, making certain not to stand out on the roads, and had waited for the fox to enter the underground parking lot to his apartment complex. He parked across the street, and stayed there for the majority of the night. He was a light sleeper, and he wanted the fox, _his prey_ , to feel safe. Before dawn on the next day, he grabbed a black briefcase in the passenger seat, left his car, and crossed to the complex on foot. Slipping into the garage, he found a wall mounted directory for tenets and their room numbers. He knew the name he was looking for: Wilde. So, the demon had a real name. Locating it on the directory, he ascended the staircase to the fourth floor and followed the hallway to room 42. From there, it was a simple matter of picking the lock (for all his bravado, this fox could have used a better security system), slowly opening the door, and finding a comfortable bar stool at the convenient island countertop. He then began the process of waiting, patiently. It was the waiting that Marcus enjoyed the most. The act of ambush in and of itself was a palpable mounting of tension. Marcus revelled in this slow build.

As dawn began to enter through the windows of the apartment, he heard stirring in the back bedroom. _Not much longer now._ He watched, large yellow eyes viewing clearly through the new light, as a red fox tod left his bedroom and entered the bathroom, oblivious to the mammal in his kitchen. Not yet, decided Marcus. He would offer the fox the courtesy of waking up before the ambush. After several minutes, the fox left his bathroom in a grey t-shirt and and a fresh pair of jeans. _Now._

“Good morning, Alpha. Sleep well?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Zootopia, hitmammal. Steady paw.
> 
> I can’t get a straight answer from Google on what personal records are available in what context for law enforcement usage. This is the most accurate I could get under US laws at least. Those of you with a strong suspension of disbelief may want to activate it now. For the rest, God help you.


	8. Fight or Flight

He had certainly had more pleasant mornings.

Nick jumped slightly at the existence of someone else in his apartment. His fur bristled and his eyes glanced in the direction of the voice. He saw it, sitting in one of his barstools. An ocelot with neatly groomed fur, wearing a brown bomber jacket ( _Imported snake leather. Not bad_ ). His left paw held the handle of a flat black briefcase resting on the countertop. His right wielded a small automatic handgun, with the bulbous form of a suppressor protruding from its barrel, that was aimed at the fox’s head.

“Please sit down. Let’s make this as painless as possible,” said the ocelot. He gestured with the gun to an empty stool across the counter. Nick hesitated for a moment before padding over to the offered chair.

“Relax, Alpha. I’m not here to kill you. Obviously,” drawled the cat. 

“Then you’re here to intimidate me?” asked Nick as he sat down. His expression was hardened. However, his mind ran through his options, trying to find a way out. That’s all this was: a problem that needed rectifying. For now though, the only thing to do was stall. “Do you know who I am?”

“Not directly. But I have seen you around back in the day. We shared a... mutual friend, I guess you’d say. And of course I know of your work. You're a real legend,” said the ocelot. He had adopted a look of relaxed amiability. To an outside viewer the scene would have appeared to be nothing more than a light discussion between acquaintances, minus the gun of course.

“I accept your flattery. Now, why are you here?”

“I have something for you, from this mutual friend of ours,” said the ocelot, as he passed the briefcase across the table to the stoic vulpine. “An ultimatum of sorts.”

Nick accepted it and undid the clasps. He opened the case to reveal its contents.

Money. Lots of money. Stacks of hundred dollar bills lined the red velvet interior. There must have easily been fifty-thousand bucks in this case! Nick had seen such offerings before. Taking a high valued mammal’s life didn’t come cheap. But why now? And from a mammal who would certainly prefer him dead?

“That amount, every two months, for a decade,” continued the feline. “You can do whatever you want to do, so long as you first do what Meowkov asks. Mind if I help myself to a snack?”

“What?”

“I haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” said the ocelot. “I don’t want to skip a meal. It’s bad for your health.”

He leveled his gun at the tod. A sneer spread across his muzzle. “Among other things.”

“Why you little motherfff...Fine. Go ahead,” said Nick with a sigh, gesturing to his fridge. The ocelot casually left the bar and headed for it, clearly convinced he had a permanent upper paw despite his gun no longer trained on the fox. Nick wasn’t planning to try anything ( _yet_ ) anyway. His mind was too occupied with what was being asked of him. “So what exactly does Meowkov want?”

“Hmm? Oh right!” said the intruder as he rifled through Nick’s refrigerator, eventually surfacing with part of a leftover chicken sandwich Nick was saving for later. “Just don’t go after him again. Oh, and quit the ZPD while you’re at it. Can’t let you go living on a ‘watered down’ version of your old work.”

“That makes sense,” replied Nick. He got up and wandered over to his couch, leaning nonchalantly on the back of it, still facing the ocelot, who was now scarfing down his sandwich. So this was an attempt to get rid of him the nice way? He was being bribed to stop fighting. Which meant Meowkov wanted an easy way out. He was still scared of Alpha.

Which also meant that he did not, completely, trust this hitmammal to be capable of carrying out a hit on him.

He could lose.

_He would lose._

_You just entered the fox’s den, and ate the fox’s food._

_The fox is angry._

“So, what do you say?” asked the ocelot, between bites of the appropriated chicken club on rye.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to decline that offer,” said Nick flatly. He unnoticeably tensed. His mind prepared for what was to come.

The ocelot finished off the sandwich and gave the tod a look of absolute disbelief. “Seriously? You want to turn this down? This isn’t a trick, it’s just another give and take. I was told you were good with those.”

“Well, it’s been awhile. I’m a changed mammal.” responded the fox. _Any moment now…_ “Nothing against you, but your boss hurt my partner. My best friend.” _My bunny._ “And as an officer, and her friend, I will do all that I can to...”

_Wait for it._

“bring…”

_Any second now._

“him…”

_A flinch! He’s reacting!_

“down!”

_Now!_

Nick tumbled backwards over the couch, while a salvo of pistol rounds pursued him. He felt a stinging sensation emanate from his left thigh, but ignored it for now. He had ended up in a prone position on the floor, the couch separating his body from further harm. Glancing around, he searched for anything, anything at all, that could help him. His eyes landed on a leftover dinner plate on his nearby coffee table. _Thank Karma for my poor living habits._

“Aw hell! You just don’t know when to quit do you?!” the ocelot shouted as Nick heard the metal on metal sliding sound signifying a change in ammo magazines.

It was this sound that he had been waiting for.

Without a second’s hesitation, the fox grabbed the plate, rose from cover, and hurled it at the attacker, landing a direct hit to the cat’s temple. Its ceramic shards turned into flechette rounds that sliced through anything nearby, including the unfortunate feline. The fox did not have time to celebrate his aim as he had already hurtled over the couch and leaped at the ocelot from across the counter, knocking him to the floor. The gun flew from the intruder’s paws. It skidded out of the reach of both mammals. Nick ended up on top of the ocelot, but for only a moment as the cat slashed and kicked at him, causing him to recoil in pain. They both stood, each already battered viscously, and gave the other a menacing, primal snarl, challenging for an escalation. That escalation came in the form of a swift punch from the ocelot, which the fox easily deflected. Nick sent his own jab in return. It impacted the cat’s abdomen. A short grunt confirmed its hit. In response, the ocelot gave a left hook that managed to stick with the fox’s jaw. As Nick pulled away, Marcus saw his salvation in the form of a set of kitchen knives on a nearby countertop, and quickly snatched one up.

“Finally, a practical use for those,” said Nick with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Shut the fuck up!” snapped the ocelot.

“Of course I still would have preferred dicing vegetables with it,” quipped Nick. He immediately regretted it as the cat made a stab at him.

The ocelot brandished the improvised weapon with skill. He twirled it in one paw before cutting a lateral strike that barely missed Nick’s torso. The swipes kept coming, and Nick kept getting pushed back. He moved as rapidly as he could out of the blade’s path, deflecting the swinging arm itself where he could, but he was slowly losing ground. A quick upward slice sent shockwaves of pain up his right arm, forcing out a growl. He needed an out. Any chance he could get.

_There!_

The ocelot went for another swipe. But this time Nick was ready. He caught the arm with his left paw and twisted it as hard as he could, claws drawing blood from the appendage. The ocelot shrieked and dropped the knife. The sound of metal clattering against hardwood was music to Nick’s ears.

With the advantage widening, Nick used his other paw to grip the ocelot’s muzzle and shove. Hard. The cat, knocked off balance, careened down into the island countertop head first. A satisfying thwack was followed by a gush of blood.

Dazed, Marcus made a desperate lunge at the fox, both toppling to the floor below. He slashed and clawed at anything red. His eyes caught sight of something shiny. The knife! He reached out for it. _Almost… got it!_ He brought the weapon up above the fox and forced it downward.

Nick saw this assault coming a mile away and succeeded in bending out of the knife’s path. It cut into the floor and stuck there. As the ocelot attempted to unstick it, Nick drove a clawed thumb directly into the cat’s left eye. The intruder yowled as Nick flipped both of them over. Now he was on top. Amazingly, the ocelot managed to unstick the knife in this position and thrust it once more.

Once more again, Nick caught the arm.

“Stop!” shouted Nick. But the ocelot responded with a swipe of his claws, tearing gashes along Nick’s shoulder. There could be no compromise. This would only end one way; with a dead body.

Nick began twisting the ocelot’s paw. Slowly, the knife was rotated until it faced downward, directly at the cat’s chest. Nick pressed on the arm-weapon combination as the ocelot used his other paw to force upwards. It was a losing battle for the cat. For added leverage, Nick used his other arm as a makeshift hammer, striking the paw-entangled knife for an extra jolt of pressure.

The first hit caused the knife to lurch downward, grazing the ocelot’s chest.

The second was loosened up by the first, cutting into the cat’s rib cage. It was all over now.

The third hit, practically unhindered, plunged the knife deep into the ocelot’s left lung.

He was dying, Marcus knew. His shuddered gasps were a testament to his drastically shortened life. He had always figured he would go out some way like this. At least it was a good fight.

_That fox is not passed his prime. He couldn’t be! This whole setup was a death sentence from the beginning! Meowkov doesn’t stand a chance._

_See you in Hell, Ivan._

The ocelot gave one last hack of blood and pain, and moved no more.

Nick sat back, observing his work from a distance. His breathing rattled his body. He stood, a task that seemed to take an eternity, and staggered to his bathroom. He clutched the countertop with impunity using his left paw, while his right turned on the faucet, and splashed wave after wave of icy cold water on his face. His heart beat like a jackhammer. _This was only the first. Meowkov’s gonna kill me! He won’t quit until he does!_

_Stop._

The singular thought halted all others. _I am not dead. Judy is not dead. One step at a time. For now, assess the damage. Then, plan your next action._

Nick carefully removed his shirt and jeans, wincing slightly as they grazed fresh wounds. He began to inspect his new cuts. The bullet that hit his thigh merely grazed it, leaving a crimson trench in his fur. His arm where the knife had cut him faired no worse as well. The claw marks were only superficially damaging. A few new scars would form, but otherwise he would live.

He went through his medicine cabinet and produced a roll of bandages and some disinfectant. It would do. As he dressed his wounds, the fox contemplated what his next move should be.

_I need to inform the chief. I’ll call, say what happened, and go to Judy. She needs protection right now._

The fox put on another pair of pants, grey slacks this time, and a loose, black, button up shirt. He found his cell phone and called Chief Bogo’s personal line. This deserved his actual attention.

_“Wilde, I will inform you of the case as it…”_

“Not now Chief!” Nick cut in. “I just got a wake up call from an ocelot with a Sig Sower! You can send some _actual_ investigators over to see. I’m going to check on Judy.”

_“I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that because you’re talking to me that means the ocelot is dead?”_

“We have a winner,” said the vulpine as he threw his jacket on and grabbed his car keys. As an afterthought he picked up the automatic, and appropriated a fresh magazine from the dead ocelot. “I’m heading over to the hospital now.”

Nick sharply hung up on the chief and left his apartment, along with the recently deceased combatant, as it was. He flew down the stairs, not wanting to waste time waiting for an elevator, and ran out into the parking garage. His mind scrambled for the last place he left his car.

“I thought I’d find you to be the one leaving, Nicholas.”

Nick froze.

_That voice… it couldn’t be!_

Nick turned in the voice’s direction. What he saw made his blood run cold. A fox stood leaning up against a nearby concrete support pillar. Steel blue eyes focused on the young tod, piercing his very soul. There was a little more grey around his muzzle from when last they saw one another, but there was no mistaking who this was.

_This day just keeps getting better and better. And it’s not even noon._

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The old fox let out a soft chuckle. “After all this time, and this is the greeting I get?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, old mammal. I’ll ask again. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” said Nick. An inflection of malice punctuated each of his words.

“Just checking in on an old friend,” explained the aged fox. “I wanted to be certain that Alpha could still handle a single cleaner.”

“You sent that ocelot after me?” Nick questioned in disbelief. _Does that mean…_ “How long have you been following me?”

“We’ve been on your tail ever since word got to us of a certain fox graduating from the police academy. We were uncertain if said fox was still the finely-honed weapon he once was but a particular encounter at a warehouse was able to quell any worries.”

“You were the one who sent that anonymous tip about a disturbance.” stated Nick in a moment of revelation. A growl rumbled up from his throat. “ _You_ nearly got Judy killed.”

The other fox stood upright from his casual lean and placed a paw to his ear in a phone call gesture. An exaggerated look of distress graced his features. “Hello, police? I’d like to report a fair amount of noise coming from an abandoned warehouse on Hornsworth street. It’s the only warehouse here, you can’t miss it. To think some druggies could set up shop anywhere in this city! It’s unnerving!”

The fake phone was dropped, along with the terrified look, instantaneously. “I assure you it was acted out with complete confidence in your abilities. Needless to say you exceeded our expectations.”

“You’re about to exceed your expiration date,” said Nick in a dangerous tone. He took a step towards the other fox, claws extended at his sides. The angered fox let out a snarl that cut through the relatively quiet parking structure. “Give me one good reason not to cut you up into tiny pieces.”

“Oh, I have far better than that,” said the old tod with a nonchalant air.

“I’m going to offer you the one chance you’ll get to save that rabbit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to upload on a Thursday, because entropy. 
> 
> I feel as though the quality of my writing has slipped in the last couple chapters. I’m not sure if I’m being paranoid, but if you see something, say something. Criticism for the betterment of my work is always appreciated.
> 
> Number of hits: 1886  
> Number of kudos: 85  
> Number of my gratitude: at least 30, probably more


	9. A Certain Point of View

_(_ ** _Accompaniment:_ ** _We’re Going Wrong by Cream)_

 

    Nick’s advance faltered. He retracted his claws. The snarl was subdued to a disconcerted look. “What do you mean?”

 

    “You want Meowkov dead. I have the location, time, and supplies you’ll need to accomplish it. It’s a simple target neutralization, just like old times,” said the old fox. “What do you say?”

 

    “How do you have all this information on him?”

 

    “Well, as strange as it sounds, he hired me for consultant work after you left. I accepted of course. Keep your friends close and all that,” explained the other fox. “Recently though, he’s gone far past selling nip and the occasional handgun. That shipment of Kalashniklaws you found was just a taste of his new business practices. We decided it was time to eliminate him. With your help we could do just that.”

 

    “Why not get another puppet to do it for you?” asked Nick. Disdain dripped from his voice. “Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn’t want to go back to that life?”

 

    “Considering the body count you racked up in the past twenty-four hours, no I didn’t,” came the response. Nick winced slightly at that statement. “Then again, I do have another theory as to why you would do something like that.”

 

    “Yeah? and what’s that?”

 

    “You had someone you were protecting. Someone you cared about,” said the old tod.

 

    “Cut the shit! You know me, I don’t play well with others,” said Nick.

 

    “Heh. Well,” started the old tod with a slight chuckle. “That sentiment depends entirely on how much you love Officer Hopps.”

 

    The young vulpine tensed, mouth somewhat agape at this statement seemingly out of thin air. _Figures. If anyone could figure it out, it’d be him._ _And now the bastard wants to use her as leverage!_ Rage built up inside him once more. His hackles raised. “If you _dare_ harm her…”

 

    “I didn’t say any harm would come to her,” interrupted the old fox. “I only want to know how much you love her.”

 

    “How would you even know?” came the skeptical response.

 

    “Love drives us to do crazy things,” began the other fox. His eyes took on a wistful appearance. “I would have never expected you to become a cop. You had to have a good reason to do something like that. A push from someone you more than admired.”

 

    “Judy’s a good friend. I can see why you wouldn’t get that, seeing as you don’t have any.” snapped Nick.

 

    “No, I don't, but neither did you. And now you’ve found someone you’d do anything for. Even now, where are you headed? To the precinct, or is it the hospital?”

 

    The old fox studied Nick for a moment, reading his every move. A twitch of the ear, a glance downward, a flicking tail told him all he needed to know. “The hospital then. That’s where you were headed yesterday as well, wasn’t it? When you ran into Meowkov a second time?

 

    Nick eyed him suspiciously at that last question. With a scoff the other fox decided it best to come clean. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Yes! I _also_ set up the parking lot deal you crossed! Because I knew you would be there! Because I knew you would be headed that way to the one thing you value most in this life!

 

    The greying tod took a few steps towards Nick, accosting him with an unwavering gaze. “Do. You. Love. Her.”

 

    It was hardly a question.

 

    The seconds ticked by, slowly, before a sigh of defeat escaped Nick’s muzzle. His ears fell back in anguish rather than anger. Finally, an answer, barely above a whisper, forced its way passed his lips. “I do love her.”

 

    He paused, then spoke again a little stronger. “I love her more than anything in the world. I’d die to keep her safe.”

 

    Had he not been looking at the ground at his feet, Nick would have seen the briefest flash of a smile sent his way by the old tod, who spoke just a moment later. “Then do what you know must be done to keep her safe. You’ve seen the way the real world works, Nicholas. Idealism only goes so far. Some mammals require a bullet in their head to keep the peace. Meowkov doesn’t care that you’re a cop. He’ll treat you, and your partner, as mere obstacles thrown his way to be dismantled piece by piece. I’m offering you a chance to end this once and for all. For Judy.”

 

    Nick stood there at a loss for words. Becoming a police officer was the happiest moment in his life. He had only wished that his mother were there to see it. And yet, in spite of such impossible desires, he still had Judy. A mammal whose very existence was nearly indescribable in words. Together, this bunny and job were all he had in the world. The only things that kept him going.

 

    That, he concluded, was why he had to accept the old fox’s proposal.

 

    That was why he had to kill Meowkov.

 

    He would not let the life of the wonderful mammal he loved nor any ZPD Officer be jeopardized by someone whom he knew too well was better off dead. Meowkov was someone whom he could, and would, eliminate. Despite the fact that such actions would almost certainly cost him the friendship and respect of those he held dear, it was the only way to ensure their safety. There was no better way.

 

     _I make for a shitty good fox._

 

    “I want your word. When this is over, we’re done,” said Nick. Resignation laced his words, but when the old tod stared back into Nick’s eyes, he saw a cold resolve that made his skin crawl. “I go away, and you _never_ bother me or Judy again.”

 

    “The thought never crossed my mind to try,” said the old fox. He proceeded to pull a slip of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Nick, who saw it had two addresses written on it. The other vulpine touched a finger to the top one. “This address is the location of a weapons cache. Everything you might need, all unmarked and untraceable. Just like old times. The location of Meowkov’s base of operations is below. He will be there tonight going over a new order of rifles. Eliminating him is of highest priority. All other mammals in his employment are nonessential but expendable when necessary.”

 

    With that, the older fox turned to leave, seemingly blending into the shadows. He stopped before the exit and turned back to Nick. “Good to have you back, Alpha.”

 

     He crossed through the doorway, as a spectre passes through the night. 

 

    “I never really left, I guess,” said Alpha with a sigh.

 

 

 

    “Okay, could you run the whole thing by me one more time,” demanded Wolford.

 

    “How is this not connecting in your brain?” demanded Fangmeyer. She glanced at Judy, who was sitting up in her hospital bed. Since the arrival of the detectives at the hospital, following a somewhat mushy reunion (Wolford had never seen a tiger cry before that day), the three mammals had been sharing what they knew of Nick and, more importantly, what was still to be known.

 

    It was the unknown part that they were having difficulty with.

 

    “I thought he took part in some questionable business practices to get his money, not play Jag Wick!” Wolford threw back, causing Fangmeyer to glare at him. He gestured to the rabbit in the room. “And you are the last bloody mammal I expected to agree with this shite.”

 

    “Nick was a hit mammal for that leopard, Wolford,” said Judy with exasperation. “That’s the only reasonable explanation why they knew each other, and why Nick is so experienced with weapons and fighting.”

 

    “There has to be more to the picture here,” stated Wolford. “Are you honestly telling me Hopps that Wilde is a bloody contract killer?”

 

    “How can you not see it?” interjected Fangmeyer. “We read his files. He was doing something big for years.”

 

    “Yes, but he stopped two years ago. Why?” said the wolf. “Good hit mammals don’t just up and quit. Especially at twenty-three. He had a ways to go before retiring, if there is such a thing in that profession.”

 

    “I still can’t believe that Nick is my age,” said the rabbit. The detectives had told her about the fox’s birth certificate. He was twenty-six years old as of now. His last year’s tax record had told her differently when she dug it up on her first case. Why? What could he gain from lying about his age? Of course, it wasn’t that hard to see he was still a young mammal when she thought about it. How he was able to keep up with her during the absurd chases from the Nighthowler Case, coupled with his…kit-like…disposition, would have thrown off any who did not know the truth.

 

    The truth. She wondered if she even knew what that was anymore.

 

    “There’s a lot I can’t believe about Wilde,” snapped Wolford. “Like the apparent fact that he’s a bad mammal!”

 

    “I’m not saying that he is!” returned Judy. She stood up on her bed and stared down, or rather up, at Wolford, who seemed to shrink significantly in the enraged gaze of the bunny. Fangmeyer made a move to step in, but was quickly suppressed by the same death leer as it was aimed her way.  “I know, _for a fact,_  that Nick is not a bad fox. He has given too much of his time to helping me on my ridiculous quest to make the world a better place, too much help on the case of the century, to simply be playing a part. And, by the way, all that malarkey was before he was even an officer!”

 

    Judy now realized that she was standing, or, more accurately, starting to wobble on her hind paws as this was her first use of them in over a day. She promptly sat back on her bed. Her ears drooped back and her eyes noticeably lost their torrent of fire.

 

    A spark remained. It was enough.

 

    “Believe me, I _know_ he is not a bad fox, and I won’t _ever_ give up on him if he stumbles and loses his way. I just don’t know what to make of all this information.”

 

    “Well, I think the best thing to do would be to ask him yourself.” said Fangmeyer, as she stared at her phone. “The Chief just texted me…I know! I didn’t think he knew how to do that!” was the answer to the quizzical looks she received. “He always had a thing against impersonal contact.”

 

    “The point, Fang?” said her partner dryly.

 

    “Anyway, according to him, Wilde will be here shortly. Says he woke up to…holy shit…he was attacked in his apartment!”

 

    “What?!” came Judy’s panicked response.

 

    “Is he in any condition to drive?” asked Wolford.

 

    “According to Bogo, he sounded fine, or I guess as fine as he could be,” Everyone in the room let out a collective breath of relief. “The attacker was subdued.”

 

    “And by subdued you mean…?” began Wolford.

 

    “Killed. Yeah,” said Fangmeyer.

 

    Judy looked away at this statement, emotionally pain stricken. That fox was being put through hell! But for what purpose? Regardless of his explanation about his past, she did not think she could ever be irreparably angry at him. He deserved that much.

 

    Fangmeyer continued. “He says Wilde claimed to be heading here to make sure you were okay, Hopps.”

 

     And there it was! The icing on the Nick-is-a-good-mammal-who-deserves-nothing-but-love cake. Judy had to smooth her ears back to keep the detectives from seeing the pink they had accrued. “Oh.”

 

    Of course, it didn’t take a detective to figure out her position on the matter.

 

    “So, that means he’s being hunted,” said Wolford pensively, ignoring the rabbit’s tells. “Whatever he and the leopard were doing in the past they seem to have had a falling out.”

 

    “Nick should be here any minute,” said Judy stoically. “We’ll see what he has to say.”

 

    The seconds turned to minutes as the three mammals waited in relative silence. Occasionally they attempted to share idle conversation, but it always seemed to falter, as the worries for their friend grew. Wolford checked his watch for the fifth time (or sixth, he had lost count) and sighed. “He should’ve been here by now.”

 

    Suddenly, the door to the hospital room swung open. A figure strode casually in after it. At first Judy thought it was the doctor, come to check on her. Then her eyes caught a glimmer of russet fur and her heart unintentionally skipped a beat. _Nick!_

 

    As it turned out she was only partially right.

 

    A fox walked into the room, brown trench coat tailing him. A sense of purpose adorned each placement of his hind paws He was old, far older than Nick, yet there was no denying the almost casual supremacy that seemed to emanate from his form.

 

    “Ah. You must be Judy Hopps. It is truly an honor to finally make your acquaintance. Nicholas has told me so much about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has officially surpassed 100 Kudos! Time to celebrate! Confetti cannons, ready, fire!
> 
> (Tinnitus-inducing blasts followed by a torrent of multi-colored paper)
> 
> Ow. Okay, maybe I overdid it, but the sentiment remains! Thank you all for your continuing support. Here’s to another 100.
> 
> Also, I’m not exactly sure how this works, but I give full permission for anyone to make drawings based on my Zootopia writings. I love the visual concept of Nick with guns. Tactical fox, inbound.
> 
> Now if you’ll excuse me there’s a phone somewhere that won’t stop ringing...


	10. Bits and Pieces

    “Who the fuck are you?!” snarled Fangmeyer. She and Wolford both drew their sidearms, startled by the unknown interloper. Judy stood, a little more sure-footed this time, preparing for anything to come. 

 

    “Woah! Hold it! I’m unarmed,” said the fox, opening his coat and turning out his pockets. Aside from a black wallet, no other item was to be seen. The detectives lowered their weapons somewhat at this revelation, and Judy say back down. She was getting really tired of exerting herself when her body clearly could not. 

 

    “Who are you?” demanded Wolford. “You might want to answer now. Makes it easier to have your name on record when we arrest you for entering a recovery ward without permission.”

 

    “And who says I’m here without permission?” returned the fox. He padded over to an open chair by the window and sat down, or rather clambered into it, as it was sized for slightly larger mammals. He leaned back and relaxed, his posture exuding complete serenity. “I found the front desk to be entirely cooperative when I said who I was.”

 

    “Who might that be?” asked Fangmeyer, gun still in paw. 

 

    “Just someone with the clearance to know an officer’s room,” said the fox “Someone who knows things, things that you need.”

 

    “What could we need from you?” asked the rabbit.

 

    “Information on one Nicholas Piberius Wilde.”

 

    The room froze. For a fleeting moment, the three officers found themselves drowning in their own questions. But it was Judy who asked first, and it was something that she had had on her mind from the second the old fox had entered the room. 

 

    “Are you Nick’s father?” she asked.

 

    The old fox seemed completely caught off guard. He tilted his head in puzzlement. “What would make you think that?”

 

    “Firstly, you called him Nicholas. No one that I know calls him that. It sounded very paternal to me when you said it. Secondly, you act just like him, snark and all. Finally, you’re hiding your concern for him. He has similar walls to keep other mammals from his emotions,” said Judy, ticking off her fingers as she went. “So don’t act like you and him weren’t close, at least at one point, because as far as I’m concerned, you are him, just with a few more years on you.”

 

    The old fox seemed to process this, his ears falling somewhat. His eyes darted back and forth. Judy didn’t show it, but internally she was jumping for joy.  _ I have him! I took him off guard! He wasn’t expecting…  _

 

__ The laughter cut her internal monologue off. When she looked at him, the fox was practically rolling in his chair, paws clutching his sides for fear they might split asunder. A pure expression of mirth consumed his every feature. 

 

    “Hahahaha!” he cried, eventually calming down and wiping a tear from his eye. His mind wandered to the words an old friend had once said of him.  _ You were right, James. I guess I do strike a fatherly figure. _

 

__ “So sorry, Ms. Hopps,” said the fox. “I just never expected to hear a comment like that from someone I just met. Of course, where are my manners. Mother did not raise an impolite kit. My name is Arthur Cain.”

 

    “You used to work with Nick though, right?” pressed Officer Hopps. 

 

    “You are masterfully deductive. I can see why Nicholas likes you so.”

 

    Judy felt her ears begin to flush, but tamped it down in exchange for a building rage. “What did you do to Nick?”

 

    “Do? Nothing,” said Arthur casually. “I merely gave him some information on a recent source of discomfort for him… and perhaps a little egging on.”

 

    “The snow leopard?” asked Fangmeyer. 

 

    “Yes, him,” said Arthur. “Ivan Petrovich Meowkov, former Zooviet Spetsnaz operative turned illegal trade dealer following the collapse of the UZSR. Specializes in illegal surplus firearms. That’s Meowkov with a K, by the way” 

 

    “And former employer of Nick Wilde?” asked Wolford.

 

    “Not directly. Many mammals hired Nick for his particular set of skills, but he was not the one to directly set up contracts. That’s where I came in. I was his handler. Mammals would come to me, and I would aim the fox in question at a designated target.”

 

    “That doesn’t sound like the kind of mammal that could get clearance to a hospital whenever he chooses,” pointed out Judy. “Who do you work for? What else are you not telling us?”

 

    “A lot, actually. Perhaps it would be best for me to start from the beginning,” said Arthur. “Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Born February 26, 1991 to one Marion Rose Wilde and James Francis Wilde…”

 

    Everyone turned to look at the tigress whom for the second time in two days was trying to contain her laughter. “Pfft, Francis.” 

 

    Arthur watched as she was stared down by the wolf and rabbit officers, Hopps seemingly unhindered by her condition, before clearing his throat and continuing. “As I was saying, James  _ Francis _ Wilde was a special forces operative during the Gulf War. He was killed during an advanced recon mission. I was a part of his team.” 

 

    The fox sighed. A mournful cloud formed in his eyes. “He was a good friend. In fact we had been good friends since we were kits. You must understand, as bad as prejudice against foxes can be now, decades ago it was a given. We russet canines had to look out for one another growing up in this city. Anyway, James, my best friend, was killed in action, and would never get to meet his only son, who was born while he was deployed. As his friend I took it upon myself to look after Marion and Nicholas when I came home, but I had stayed in the military, and often my work kept me away. Regardless, I could never replace James, and try as I might I could never shelter his son from the terrible world. I remember when he was very young Nicholas wanted nothing more than to join the Junior Ranger Scouts…”

 

    “I know this story,” said Judy, causing Arthur to stop mid-sentence. “He wanted to join and, because he was a fox, the other members held him down and forced a muzzle on him.” 

 

    “Holy fucking shite,” said Wolford. He and Fangmeyer adopted similar expressions of horror, having both never heard this story. Arthur, on the other paw, held a surprised look. 

 

    “He shared that with you?” he asked cautiously. 

 

    “Yes, he did.” said Judy. “Why?”

 

    “Because there are a total of three mammals, not including those miscreants who did it, who previously ever knew that little chapter in Nicholas’s life, two of which are sitting in this room,” said Arthur slowly. “He must trust you a bloody good deal to tell you that.”

 

    “I wouldn’t say that he does,” said Judy, with as collected a tone as she could muster. “If he did he wouldn’t be going around killing mammals. He’s a police officer!”

 

    “Only for a short span,” said Arthur. “Compared with how long he’s been up against a wall fighting tooth and claw for his life. He told you of the Ranger Scouts, but did he ever say what happened after?”

 

    Judy knew he did not. Then again… 

 

_     I want to tell you about all the parts between the Ranger Scouts incident and now. My partner and first friend in a long time deserves it. _

 

    He wanted to tell her! He did trust her! How wrong was she to think otherwise!

 

    “No,” said Judy. “But he was going to tell me. He said he would.”

 

    “I don’t doubt that he would have,” returned Arthur. “Regardless of how… difficult it would have been for him to tell someone like you.”

 

    “Difficult?”

 

    “You grew up in a peaceful little town where everyone knew each other. A carrot-choked backwater, yes?” said Arthur rhetorically. Judy opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it when she realized he was right in a way. How naive had she been of the world when she first stepped off that train at Zootopia Central all those months ago! Seeing her mentally take back any imminent rebuttal, Arthur continued. “Nicholas didn’t have that luxury growing up. That Scouts incident was just the beginning. Every day after school, like clockwork, those brats who had already caused him so much pain would partake in beating him senseless. Marion described tears in his clothes and black and blue marks under his fur. Now you might ask why she never went to those kits’ parents. Oh, believe you me she did. But why would anyone trust the word of a fox? They chalked it up to her son being the problem, insisted that their kits could never be as bad as his species. So the beatings would continue unhindered. That is, until something happened.”

 

    “What happened?” asked Judy. 

 

    “He began hitting back. He would come home with the same bruises, but also with blood in his claws and knuckles rubbed raw, and a shit-eating grin on his face. Marion was naturally distraught, always the pacifist,” Arthur gave a sad smile to no one in the room. “She told him not to, but there was little she could do about it. She worked two jobs to pay the bills and was never home. The other parents wouldn’t listen and it was off school property, so they had no jurisdiction. As long as he got good grades he was in the clear there, which he did consistently. I insisted to Marion to give Nicholas an IQ test. He showed near-genius levels across the board. And yet he kept fighting. It nearly broke her heart, but the pneumonia beat him to it”

 

    Aurthur seemed to age a decade in an instant. “A month before Nicky’s eighteenth birthday, Marion was stricken with Vulpine Pneumonia, a dangerous disease for us foxes, especially someone at her age. She and Nick weren’t on the best of speaking terms at that point. He was out of the house most of the time doing who knows what, then coming home late at night with new marks and a wad of cash. But when she passed the day before his birthday I had never seen him so broken. I should have been for him then. What came next is on my paws.”

 

    “What did he do?” asked Fangmeyer, she being as engrossed in this story as her colleagues. 

 

    “What every distraught young mammal does when he has a rough life and wants a way out of it; he joined the army. It lasted less than a year, however. He was terrible at following orders, always going against his superiors. He was kicked out before he was even deployed anywhere outside Fort Irwin on Outback Island. Now he was a dishonorably discharged fox with nowhere to go.” 

 

    “That’s when he became a hit mammal?” questioned Judy.

 

    “Not quite,” said Arthur. “That’s where I come in. You see, while his life was unfolding, I myself was moving up in a certain organization, an organization with many eyes and ears. These eyes and ears happened to pick up on the knowledge that despite his rebellious demeanor, Nicholas was in fact a top cadet. Now, at that time we were working on a certain… ‘project’, regarding the elimination of domestic threats to Zootopia while maintaining minimal accountability. Nicholas was a prime candidate for it. He scored top marks in physical exams, shooting, and written tests. His distaste for leadership could be reverse engineered to allow him to work with near autonomy. At my request, he was picked up and, after a few months of training, was given a house, a tweak of identity, and thrust into the world of target elimination on behalf of the Zootopian government. Alpha was born.”

 

    The way he used the word Alpha made the three officers’ fur stand on end. 

 

    “Alpha?” asked Judy. 

 

    “Alpha,” asserted Arthur. “His code name. The apex, the penultimate, the best, because that is what he was, to us and his enemies.”

 

    “So… what about Meowkov? Wilde’s age? Where does all that fit in here?” asked Judy

 

    “Meowkov? Meowkov was a very real criminal. And yet until recently he was a very small fish in a very big pond. We were after far bigger game in those days; large scale arms dealers, cartel operators, mammals that posed a direct and imminent threat to the well being of the city, the entire sovereignty even. You may think the law is infallible, Ms Hopps, but I can assure you some mammals require swifter, more permanent action to be rendered inert. So Alpha would play the part of the assassin for hire for Meowkov, as well as other thugs, and all the while we would actually be pulling the strings. He worked under our, or more specifically my, supervision,” explained Arthur. “As for the age, it was all part of his cover. Would you believe a mammal barely out of his high school years to be capable of the things he was? Neither would hardened crime syndicates that might hire him. I am curious how you would know of that. I was unaware he was still using that trope. He would be… oh… in his thirties had he kept it up.”

 

    “That’s how he filled out his police application,” said Judy. “And his tax forms.”

 

    “His tax forms?” questioned Arthur. 

 

    “What the papers didn’t tell about the missing mammals case was I had to threaten Nick with tax evasion to get him to help me,” said Judy. “His forms claimed he was thirty-two.”

 

    “Did you look at anything else? His birth certificate perhaps?” said Arthur suspiciously.

 

    “Well, um… no,” said Judy. 

 

    “And why did you think you would find something incriminating in his tax records, of all places?” said Arthur with just a hint of an accusatory tone. 

 

    “Ok! Fine! I was profiling him! I thought he was shady! Because I was a dumb, country,  _ bunny _ !” snapped Judy. The attack startled everyone, even the fox, who jolted in his seat. The rabbit took a breath and continued, more deliberately. “But I know that now. I learned the hard way not to assume I know a mammal just from what they are. I nearly lost a friend because of it.”

 

_ She truly is a wonder, James. Nicky has a lot going for him.  _ Arthur mused on this thought for a moment. Then he spoke it. His voice held only admiration. “You truly are a wonder, Officer Hopps. Nicholas is lucky to have such a friend, after all he has been through.”

 

    “That brings me to something else,” said Wolford. “Why quit? We’ve got records of him up until two years ago as, I can now guess, part of your ‘project’.” 

 

    “Correct,” said Arthur, “And that leads  _ me  _ to the moment we, including Meowkov, like to refer to as ‘the incident’. The singular moment which devastated Alpha, crippled the project, and sent Nicholas into hiding for a long time.”

 

    “What was the incident?” said Judy, asking the obvious question. 

 

    “That,” began Arthur. “Is not my place to say. To be perfectly frank even I do not know the exact story. It was a hit like any other. It was even carried out in full! Yet upon completion we lost contact with Alpha. He did not return to his house. He did not try to reach us. We searched for him for months before finding him living on the streets, selling odds and ends for a living. We weren’t sure if it was some elaborate ruse, but eventually we realized that whatever had happened Alpha was gone. We… I let him go.”

 

    “You left him homeless?!” exclaimed Judy. “After everything you did to him?!”

 

    “He clearly didn’t want my help!” returned Arthur. “So I left him where he was, to be forgotten… and then the most remarkable thing happened.”

 

    “Yeah? What’s that?” scoffed the rabbit.

 

    “You,” stated the fox simply. Judy seemed taken aback by this. Her ears cocked and lowered in confusion. “Zootopia is a mausoleum of secrets, Officer Hopps, and of all the secrets you could have found, you happened to stumble across him. You brought him, dragged him even by the sound of it, back into the world, and made him whole again, fixed what should have been permanently broken. For the first time in a long time I believe he has something, someone, to hold on to, to be inspired by. A purpose. That’s far more than I could have ever offered him.”

 

    “It doesn’t seem like that for long,” said Judy. “You took him back. He’s doing another ‘mission’ for you isn’t he?”

 

    “We’re only borrowing him for the moment,” said Arthur, a sincere expression on his face. “One last mission to tie up loose ends. We… I’ll do everything that I can to straighten out what comes after. That’s partly why I’m here; to explain what must be done, and why. The blood he sheds, has shed, is on my paws. Do not blame him for what I and others have set in motion”

 

    “What would you have me do?” asked Judy.

 

    “When this is over, be with him,” said Arthur with a warm smile. “Let him know he is loved, that he still has this new world to belong in. I have a feeling you were planning on doing that regardless.”

 

    Judy was motionless for a few heartbeats, then sighed. “I will. I do love him.”

 

    For a second, everyone, including Judy herself, seemed taken aback by this statement. 

 

    Then Fangmeyer spoke.

 

    “Yes! Totally called it!” she exclaimed, causing heads to turn to her with blended looks of confusion and anger. Her ears twitched and splayed out while her tail flicked nervously. “Uh… I mean… w-what was the other reason you’re here?”

 

    “Two other reasons actually,” said Arthur. The tigress seemed to deflate slightly with the knowledge that she had, for the moment, successfully dodged a bullet. “Firstly, to stall you all long enough so that Alpha could get a head start. I’d say that’s mission accomplished. Secondly, once stalling was complete, I’d offer some assistance.”

 

    The fox reached into his wallet, under the scrutinizing gaze of the officers, and pulled out a business card-sized paper. He alighted from his chair and padded calmly over to Judy’s bedside, placing the card in her paw. From this close up, the rabbit could see an address hastily scribbled on one side of the card. 

 

    “This is the location Meowkov’s base of operations.” he explained, before checking his watch. “The hit should occur… within the hour actually. You can be there by the time it’s over.”

 

    With that, Arthur Cain turned on his heel, and sauntered for the door.

 

    “Wait,” called Wolford. “You can’t just leave like that! Who is this ‘we’ you keep referring to?”

 

    Just before he closed the door, Arthur turned to look at the wolf. “I thought that would be obvious, detective. We’re the good guys, just like you. We just have better clearance.”

 

    He closed the door, leaving the three other mammals to their thoughts. 

 

    “So,” began Judy, as she turned to Fangmeyer with a looming gaze that would have made Bogo proud. “What was that about ‘totally calling it’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen  
> Thank you for reading me again  
> I recall AO3 in fall  
> How you tore your dress,   
> what a mess,   
> my heart says danke schoen
> 
> I know it’s been a while, finals were killer, but the semester is over. I SHOULD be able to update more regularly now (then again the titanic SHOULD have been unsinkable too but obviously that wasn’t the case). 
> 
> Also, I don’t know about you, but I always envisioned Arthur Cain with the voice of Colin Firth. Just an observation. He has a wonderful voice. Let me know what voices you like use for these characters!
> 
> Also, 120 Kudos! Danke schoen!


	11. Rebirth of a Legend

If you were to ask any modern military mammalian historian on what was the greatest weapon invented in the last two hundred years, most would automatically answer with shredder rounds. 

 

Before the turn of the century, many armies were faced with the challenge of finding a way to bring down mammals of far greater size then they. The issue was so encompassing that it would even leak into contemporary politics (an army comprised mostly of canines and small deer felt far more at ease with moose on their side). Those who could not find such help would, naturally, try to find ways around it. The 19th century saw the invention of the “elephant gun”; a large caliber mobile artillery piece crewed by two to five mammals, depending on their size. 

 

However, by the turn of the century, a new piece of weaponry was developed that would forever change mammalian warfare: shredder rounds. 

 

These were specially designed bullets, with denser tips and special etching along the sides, which allowed them to penetrate thicker hides and bone, before splitting open like the petals of a flower inside a target, inflicting greater damage. Combined with new fully automatic firearms, a smaller mammal could take down a far larger opponent with ease. 

  
  


 

It was these shredder rounds, thirty to be exact, that one such smaller mammal was checking, before depositing their encompassing magazine into his weapon, a FURISS Vector submachine gun. Once complete, he proceeded to look over the firearm. It had a sharp, angular design, one that looked dangerous. 

 

Angular and dangerous, just like him. 

 

This Vector was the contents of the weapons cache that Arthur had provided him, along with a Wolfer automatic pistol, two fragmentation grenades, several spare magazines, and a bulletproof tactical vest with additional gear (The tactical black covering went well with his slacks and white button up. He like to do his work in style). 

 

The whole set was simple enough to procure. Everything was bundled in an olive drab duffle bag that had been stuffed into an unused drainage pipe in the middle of the canal’s district, Zootopia‘s expansive set of docks, marinas, and shipping ports that took on the appearance of a tight archipelago in the western part of the city. The district had started as a few small shipyards, but as commerce and ship sizes grew over the years the construction of newer, larger docks was necessitated, often leaving older ports to rot abandoned within the maze of waterways. 

 

Meowkov’s base of operations was a derelict warehouse on one such abandoned port. 

 

Alpha had little trouble locating it.

 

That was where the fox had been for the last hour or so. He had parked his Jaguar a few blocks away, and covered the rest of the distance on foot. Now he sat in an abandoned building across from the warehouse, checking his weapons, while watching the area for guard activity. The entire area around the dock was abandoned as well, meaning Meowkov could have active patrols combing his makeshift fortress without arousing suspicion from residents or authorities. It was a perfect hideout. 

 

“Shame,” said Alpha to himself, “It  _ was  _ a perfect hideout.

 

_ Are you sure about doing this? _

 

Nick gave an erratic shake of his head. He lightly smacked the pistol he was just examining against his temple, a desperate attempt to rid such thoughts from his mind.  _ Don’t start thinking like this now, you have a job to do. _

 

_ You have a new job! One you can be proud of! You have colleagues who like you, one who really likes you! If you do this you can kiss all that goodbye! _

 

Alpha growled to himself.  _ Arthur’s right! If I don’t do this Meowkov will kill them! Kill her! I can’t sit by and give him that chance! _

 

_ You’re willing to accept that if you do this, you won’t be able to see any of them again, right? This “new life” thing is over. _

 

Nick stopped his ministrations. His ears pinned back and a low growl left his muzzle. He knew this was inevitable, but until now he refused to accept it. The voice was right! He had no hope of coming back to the precinct, at least not as an officer. Bogo certainly wouldn’t allow that. Even if he did, Nick doubted he could face Judy again after this.  _ I love her. Because of that, I’m willing to let her go, for both our sakes. I need to do this to keep her safe. She deserves better than me, anyway.  _

 

When the annoying voice in his head refused to make a rebuttal, Alpha returned his mindset to what he was here for. 

 

_ ( _ **_Accompaniment_ ** _ : Rebirth of Slick by Digable Planets) _

 

Peering out from a second story window, the fox caught sight of a patrol, consisting of what looked like two gnus…  _ Hehe, that rhymed. Stupid! Focus, Alpha!…  _ tracing the perimeter fence with their route, each armed with a large assault rifle. He had seen a patrol like them prior, about ten minutes ago. That meant he had a less-than-ten minute window to leave the building he was in, cross the street, and slip through the fence, before a new patrol showed up. When the two guards were far enough away, he slung his submachine gun over his shoulder and clambered down a rusty fire escape.

 

_ Ten minutes. _

 

Once on the ground, Alpha silently slipped across the neglected pavement. By now it was late in the afternoon. The sun was already setting, as is the nature of shortened daylight in late fall. The vast shadows cast by the infrastructure in the glow of twilight was used to the fox’s advantage. He slipped from shadow to shadow as he approached the fence undetected. Once there, he found the links to be large enough that, after cutting a few, he was able to slip through with ease, pulling his firearm in after him. He thanked whatever divine entities there were for his slippery vulpine genes, then dashed for the large warehouse on the opposite side of the fence. He slinked up to the aged wall of the gargantuan structure and ducked behind a minasury of old ship parts, right as the next patrol, exactly ten minutes apart from the first, wandered by. He waited for them to fully pass, then scampered along the metal siding of the structure, hoping there was an entrance apart from the main loading door in the front. His salvation came in the form of a runoff drainage pipe, creeping down the metal siding like a vine, that happened to pass by a dismantled platform about twenty feet up, most likely the remains of a fire escape. A door connected the platform to the warehouse’s interior. 

 

Without wasting a moment, Alpha gripped the pipe, using its mount points like the rungs of a ladder, and began to climb to the platform. It was nerve racking, the slightest slip up would mean great injury for the tod and the chance of being spotted, but within a minute he had climbed up the pipe, and was standing on the awkward-looking platform. 

 

The door was sized for a medium-sized mammal, so the relatively diminutive vulpine had no issues there. He reached up and turned the door handle, thanking whatever entities were watching that it was unlocked, and maneuvered into the structure. There, he took in his surroundings. 

 

The building was massive on the inside, being exclusively for storage, with a series metal catwalks that ran along the upper wall perimeter and crossed a few times through the open interior like ribs in a monstrous skeleton. A couple of guards moved about them, but none close enough to his position to notice him. Alpha had emerged in the middle of one of these side catwalks, hidden from their view by the extensive railings that accompanied the walkways. Looking below, the tod had to stifle a gasp. 

 

Crates of weapons, numbering in the hundreds, filled the floor. Large wooden boxes were stacked neatly on top of one another, each stack separated with geometrical precision to denote different weapons and equipment. Many displayed a large red Zooviet hammer and claw; surplus munitions for a war that never was. Others had modern designs from various countries, the contents of these being high end military grade rifles and gear. 

 

_ He could supply a small army with this,  _ Alpha morbidly contemplated to himself. He was horrified, to say the least, but this was not the place to act on that fear. For now he had to find his target. Where was that fucking snow leopard?

 

There! On the opposite side of the warehouse was a large metal structure connected to the walkway, denoting a large office of some kind. The side facing the fox had windows, which he looked through to see a large desk, a bookcase on the opposite wall and, most enticing, a snow leopard pacing between the two. He appeared to be barking orders to a couple subordinates, a wolf and a large boar. His movements were frantic and unrestrained. He appeared to be livid about something. 

 

Seizing the best chance he would probably get, Alpha unslung the gun from his shoulder, careful not to make a sound as he did so. He pulled another piece of acquired equipment, a large suppressor, from a pouch in his utility vest. After screwing it on the muzzle of his Vector, the fox racked the primer handle and took aim. As he lined up the metal sights with the leopard’s head, Alpha began to slow his breathing. His heart rate followed suit. 

 

_ Inhale… Exhale.  _

 

_ Inhale… Exhale. _

 

The trick was to fire between the beats of his heart, minimizing the chance for any unnecessary jolting to skew the final shot. 

 

_ Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. _

 

He made some final corrections to his aim. The head of the mammal that had caused him so much pain loomed large in his vision. 

 

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba… 

 

_ So long, Pussycat, _ thought Alpha. 

 

He pulled the trigger.

  
  
  


Ivan Meowkov paced his study, paws clenching and unclenching. His tail flicked like an angry serpent. 

 

He was livid. 

 

“This is outrageous!” He exclaimed, turning towards two of his subordinates. “Marcus was to call hours ago! And now Cain is nowhere to be found?! Bah! This is the last straw!”

 

“What would you have us do, sir?” asked the boar with the utmost dignity and respect. Ronald Tusk was well respected amongst his peers, his calm demeanor always steadfast in the face of adversity. However, with this menacing assortment of teeth and claws bearing down on him, even he was having trouble keeping his cool. His ears flicked about with nervous spasms, and he had trouble meeting the gaze of the irate feline.  

 

“Rally every mammal we have!” began the snow leopard. “We will find that bunny and force that  _ fox _ to trade his life for hers!”

 

The other mammals shared a nervous glance. The wolf, Wade Howell, was the one to respond. “Sir… with all due respect… that sounds like the last thing we need as an organization. If we take her, a cop… hell, if we even set foot in a hospital, or  _ anywhere  _ while carrying guns, we’re calling the entire ZPD down on us. It’d be suicide!”

 

“Alpha must pay,” ground out Meowkov between his fangs, glaring down at the wolf as he did so. “What have we to fear, as such a powerful organization? I would like you, comrade Howell, to consider the arsenal we have assembled outside those doors…”

 

As the snow leopard said this, he turned. 

 

The instant he did so, a subtle, sharp crack was heard as a bullet penetrated the glass, missed Meowkov’s head by millimeters, disturbing the fur on his cheek as it did so, and embedded itself within a wooden bookshelf with a dull crunch. It took the three mammals a scant few milliseconds to realize what was happening. They quickly ducked to the floor of the office. No sooner had they done so when a scattering of rounds followed the first, causing the glass to shatter and the book shelves on the opposite side to spew bits of wood and paper. 

 

“Intruder!” shouted Wade, as he unholstered his pistol. “We have an intruder!”

 

An uproar could be heard outside the office and throughout the warehouse as mammals rushed to aid, each frantically loading and priming their weapon. Patrols swarmed in from outside, ready to fight whomever was insane enough to take them on in their base of operations. Meowkov took this opportunity to look out the now shattered window to see who had been firing on him. His eyes locked on to a truly terrifying sight. On the catwalk opposite from his office, wielding a small, though still menacing-looking weapon, was a fox. 

 

The leopard’s fur bristled at the sight of the tod. 

 

“Alpha,” growled Meowkov. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever get that feeling of deja vu? 
> 
> I had to split this chapter up because of its length, which means I’m already halfway done with the next chapter! (I’m not sure if that means I will be uploading it sooner, I will try, it’s just nice when things work out)
> 
> Once again, thank you all for the hits, Kudos, bookmarks, and comments! I know I said I write this for me but it’s a nice feeling to know others enjoy my ramblings as well.


	12. The Measure of a Mammal

_(_ **_Accompaniment: Shots Fired by_ ** _Le Castle Vania)_

 

Alpha stared right back, a snarl of pure hatred on his muzzle.

 

Unfortunately, the stare down was cut short when the fox noticed several armed mammals closing in on his position on the catwalk. Below, he could see many more combatants, weaving between the stacks of crates, each looking for a clear shot at him.

 

_I really kicked a hornet’s nest this time._

 

No sooner had he thought this when the first salvo of rounds was fired at him, striking the metal siding of the walkway and whizzing by his head. He ducked low enough to be below the railing, thanking every deity that ever was for his short stature. With the exception of some panel gaps and grating, he was all but impossible to hit.

 

Rising from cover, the vulpine fired off a few rounds at a musk ox, the shredder rounds making light work of its skull, before kneeling down and swapping the magazine. He had to get out of the open. Could he jump down to the warehouse floor? No. Even the tallest of the crate stacks were too low to land on. He would easily injure himself. Besides, Meowkov was in the other direction. That settled it. He had to get to that office.

 

Keeping a low profile, Alpha made his way along one of the inner walkways, occasionally popping up to fire at whatever showed. He managed a few direct hits on some unfortunate mammals, most were hit with a lethal wound to their head or torso, but the perpetual storm of bullets overhead told him he hadn’t thinned them out in the slightest. A noise from behind alerted Alpha of a mammal attempting a clever pincer maneuver. At least it _was_ clever until the chital found himself torn apart from the inside as the unique bullets in Alpha’s gun did their work.

 

Meanwhile, Meowkov had caught on to the fox’s plan of attack, and ran from the office, racing down a flight of metal stairs just outside. Ronald and Wade were following close behind, but a chattering of automatic fire left the boar stumbling backwards over the railing, a sickening crumple below denoting his fate. As Meowkov hit the ground level, he was thankful for the sight of one of his more experienced fighters, Karl Ursun, a brown bear with a nasty scar over his right eye, bounding up the stairs in the direction from whence the leopard came, an RPD light machine gun gripped in his massive paws. Ivan had to smirk at the sight of it. _Alpha will die tonight. Good hunting, comrade._

 

Alpha had made it to the exterior of the office, and turned to the stairs just as the bear began ascending them.

 

“Oh shit!” barked the vulpine as he quickly ducked back and scrambled into the office, just as the bear leveled his massive weapon and pulled the trigger. A heavy thumping noise echoed throughout the cavernous warehouse as the RPD chewed through its belt-fed magazine of ammo. Alpha managed to close the massive set of entrance doors behind him as bullets the size of his thumb crunched and battered their way into the mahogany. He managed to tip a nearby bookshelf in their way, effectively barricading himself inside… of a confined office that was being besieged by a bear with a machine gun.

 

_Shit._

 

Checking his Vector, Alpha was crestfallen to see that it was empty, and that he had no extra magazines left.

 

_Shit, again… Judy’s right, I do use a lot of swear words._

 

A crashing sound against the makeshift barrier broke the fox from his train of thought. _That must be the bear._ He tucked behind a large desk as a few rounds, fired in frustration, smashed through the door, thankfully being stopped by the sturdy piece of office furniture. With a break in the shooting, Alpha tossed his submachine gun aside and concentrated on finding a way out of his predicament. He observed his surroundings, searching for a solution.

 

_Let’s see… that chair is large enough that I could… no, that won’t work._

 

_What about what’s on the desk? I could use the computer to… no, not likely._

 

_Hey! A pencil! I could… no, that trick doesn’t apply here very well. Completely different set of circumstances… and there were three baddies._

 

_Focus, Alpha! Look over the room again! There has to be something you missed!_

 

As his eyes continued to dart around in their sockets, Alpha’s gaze finally landed on something he had previously overlooked. Above the impassable door was a metal grate, leading into a ventilation system. The small rectangle of metal slats was very high, despite being just above the door, and it appeared to be screwed in place.

 

It would have to do.

 

Alpha grabbed a nearby chair and half dragged, half flung it on top of the overturned bookshelf. The far up escape route seemed a little less far up. He climbed the mess of furniture, bracing himself against the door. If he reached, he could place his paw directly on the center of the grate. Pulling a knife out of his utility vest, the fox jabbed the blade under the bottom of the grate and leveraged up, causing the two lower screws holding it in place to pop out. The top was held on by a pair of hinges, meaning all Alpha had to do was lift the covering and pull himself in. Simple.

 

He wasn’t prepared for the next set of bullets to come punching through the door, nor the sudden feeling of having the wind knocked out of him as one managed to hit his vest.

 

Thankfully, he managed to hold on to the ledge and scrambled up into the ductwork. There, he took a second to recover what his lungs had lost and assess the damage. No blood was a good sign, but the sharp throb in his abdomen informed him of a possible bruised rib. He was grateful the door was there to absorb the brunt of the round’s kinetic energy. He’d live, or at least this particular issue wouldn’t bring about his death.

 

He wiggled his way through the metal duct, remembering an old joke about TV dinners, when he found another grating, this one below him and well outside the office, behind the bear.

 

_Guess I have the drop on… Ok, Fluff’s also right about the excessive puns._

 

Karl was still standing outside the office, firing into it whenever he heard movement. However, it had grown uncomfortably quiet as of late. He was about to try barging in once more, when he heard clanging metal, followed by a soft thump, behind him.

 

The bear turned as Alpha charged at him. The unreasonably large gun he carried had yet to be raised. The fox decided to use this to his advantage. Before the ursine knew what was happening, a red streak that he had only just noticed had pounced and was scrambling up the length of his unaimed light machine gun, followed by the length of his arm. Karl gasped in horror as the red streak produced a small gunmetal grey streak and lunged at him with it.

 

As it looked like his speed would carry him passed the bear’s head, Alpha pulled his knife and anchored it into the bear’s jaw. The momentum of the fox forced the larger mammal’s head to jerk painfully to the side.

 

What happened next was chaos.

 

Karl roared in absolute agony as his left paw grasped wildly for the source of his discomfort, his right, still clutching the RPD, was holding the trigger on its own accord, sending bullets flying in an arc as his body twisted around and stumbled back.

 

Meanwhile, Alpha was holding on with all his strength. He felt molten hot pain as a blind swipe of bear claws managed to catch on his shoulder and back, tearing apart the straps that held his vest together on one side. He snarled with fury and twisted the knife in deeper.

 

Neither mammal noticed their increasing proximity to the ledge until it was too late.

 

The railing may have been tall for a fox, but for a bear the only effect it had was to catch directly at knee level, sending both mammals tumbling to the warehouse below. The bear screamed with vertigo while the fox clawed his way onto the ursine chest.

 

The bear impacted the ground with a heavy splat.

 

His adversary on top of him fared somewhat better, if only enough to say so.

 

Alpha felt dazed, his vision was fuzzy and his breath haggard. He was alive! He would have jumped for joy if not for the nauseating wash that enveloped his being. He rolled off the shattered body that was once a bear. As his vision cleared, he noticed a few motions approaching his position. _Out of the frying pan…_

 

Acting on instinct, the fox reached for the bear’s light machine gun, which had landed nearby. He turned over on his back, holding the oversized weapon with the stock braced against the ground behind him, and pulled the trigger. The thumping sound resonated in his chest and each bullet fired forced the stock up into his shoulder, lurching him backward and causing his shoulder to ache badly. He didn’t care. He screamed as round after round was launched haphazardly at his would-be assailents, several of whom were actually caught somewhere vital by a piece of flying lead. He continued to fire until the belt ran out. All that remained was a pathetic clack when he attempted to pull the trigger again.

 

Thankfully, those who hadn’t been caught in his field of fire had ducked away from the fight, allowing Alpha time to discard his ruined vest, heave to his feet, and get to cover. “Cover”, in this case, was a set of weapon crates by the wall of the warehouse. No one could get at him from an advantageous angle.

 

Unfortunately, a pincer maneuver wasn’t what Alpha was worried about.

 

The fox unholstered his pistol. It was his only remaining firearm. He still had two grenades, but he couldn’t count on them to take out all the mammals in his way. His vest was gone, meaning he had no protection whatsoever against small arms. The tod was trapped. The sound of shouting and the occasional sporadic covering fire filled his ears.

 

They would close in on him in an instant. This was it. This was how it ended. They would kill him, then they would kill _her_.  

 

_Judy, I’m so sorry._

  


 

“For the last bloody time, No!”

 

“This isn’t up for debate!” retorted the rabbit, her voice muffled by the bathroom door. “I’m coming with you and that’s final!”

 

This argument had been going on incessantly since Fangmeyer was well and truly scolded for her earlier outburst.

 

Judy had insisted to come along and find Nick, despite her current condition. Wolford would have left her where she was, but realized that she would probably find another way their regardless.

 

She was stubborn like that. Everyone knew it. The wolf just hoped that, due to her injuries, she would be wise enough to be on one of her “off” days.

 

He was mistaken.

 

“Hopps, I understand your concern,” the canine began as he watched Judy leave the bathroom. Her uniform was still torn and splotched with blood, but it was the only thing she had at the hospital to wear that wouldn’t permit for an unwanted breeze like her hospital gown. “But that’s no reason to be galavanting around in your state!”

 

“I feel fine!” said Judy, as she grabbed her phone off the nightstand, holding back a wince when she moved her left arm. The medication helped, but her shoulder still ached when she gestured with it. Not that the two detectives would learn that, if she could help it. “I need to be there for Nick. He’ll listen to me, I know it!”

 

Wolford closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. When he looked once again, he saw Judy standing in front of him. Her uniform was tattered and had a gaping hole at her left shoulder. White bandages were clearly visible through it. Her fur, though relatively clean, was disheveled beyond socially acceptable. Her body was tense, despite the painkillers. She looked like she could simultaneously fall asleep and collapse in agony in an instant.

 

And yet, her ears were up, her posture exuded confidence, and when the wolf looked into her eyes, a wall of determination stared right back.

 

“Look, I know you’re just trying to look out for me,” said Judy. Her tone wasn’t angry, or scolding, merely steadfast. “But I need to look out for him. I made the mistake once of not being there for him, and I nearly lost him. He was my friend, and I betrayed him. I cannot do that again. If you don’t let me go with you, that’s fine. I’ll just find another way. But I know you don’t want me to end up hitchhiking with a shredded shoulder and a concussion, in this raggedy uniform. So what’s it gonna be?”

 

Wolford stared down at the doe for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he gave a sigh of resignation. “Bloody doctor will have my tail for this… Come on. I’ll sign you out, but I don’t have to like it.”

 

The small tug at the corners of his muzzle told her otherwise.

 

“Yes!” exclaimed Judy, as she pumped a fist in the air.

 

Leaving the confines of the room, Wolford managed to procure a wheelchair, to which Judy reluctantly acquiesced. It may have been general procedure for a hospital, but she disliked any form of compromise regardless.

 

As the wolf filled out her paperwork and the tigress went to get their car, Judy’s mind wandered to how she would confront her vulpine partner. Was it even her partner anymore? Would he care what she had to say?

 

That was a dumb question. Of course he would care! Whether or not he would act on her words would be an entirely different matter. She could pour her heart out to him, and maybe then he would listen. All she could do was try her darndest.

 

After all, she was a trier.

 

As she left the hospital, all the doe could think of was how she wished she was there from the beginning, to help her friend, the fox, _her fox,_ through the torrent of emotion he must be feeling.

 

_Nick, I’m so sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever get that feeling of deja vu?
> 
> (Old-timey radio voice)  
> Will our vulpine hero escape a terrible fate?  
> Will the relentless rabbit be reunited with her russet love?  
> Will Schwartz be able to stick to an upload schedule?  
> Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> Over 3,000 hits and 139 kudos! You have my thanks!


	13. Veni Vidi Vici

_ No. _

 

A singular word. An act of defiance.

 

_ You will not be sorry. You will complete the mission.  _

 

Nick clenched his eyes shut. His mind was on fire, the kind that swirled with a tempered heat. He pushed the feeling of hopelessness far down in his gut and focus on where he was. He had to find a way out of this. 

 

He would not let them end his life so easily. 

 

_ Get up.  _

 

When he opened his eyes, Alpha stood up, not remembering exactly when he had first lowered himself with his back against the makeshift cover. His mind sharpened on the bones of missions past ran through simulation after simulation to determine the best strategy. His body honed under the same circumstances began firing from cover, picking off a mammal or two. 

 

“You are playing a dangerous game, Alpha!”

 

The voice of the snow leopard cut through the turmoil within the warehouse. The sound of gunfire dissipated in its wake, both sides hanging on its every word. 

 

“If you give up now I promise I will make your death swift!” continued the voice. 

 

“Sorry, but I’m not giving you the chance to use your big guns on a good Officer of the ZPD!” retorted the fox. 

 

“Your Police department is not the righteous protectors they say it is!” cut in Meowkov, gesturing to his surroundings. “Look around you! Thanks to the police’s desire to have lethal guns we criminals needed to up our firepower. It is like another Cold War, yes? The mammal with the bigger rock wins!”

 

“Except our guns aren’t pointed at innocent mammals!” came the return shout.

 

“Ha!” spat Meowkov. “There are no innocent mammals! No one acts with the purest intentions. Who are you protecting by dying here? That bunny? Is she so worth it?!”

 

“You know it!” 

 

“I know how it feels to think your cause is just! Eleven  _ fucking _ years serving glorious Motherland, and when it broke apart they cast me out without so much as a  _ spasibo _ ! That is what we who fight are to superiors: expendable blood! She will suffer the fate she chose when she decided to pin a badge to her chest!”

 

“You won’t get to see that fate!” snarled Alpha. “ _ I will kill you!  _ You can join your “glorious Motherland” in hell!”

 

“After you,” growled the leopard. The cacophony resumed, putting emphasis to his words. 

 

Alpha fired a couple more shots from cover, warding off any advancing thugs. He also took the time to look out for a potential way to turn the tides on his predicament. 

 

While doing so his eyes landed on a particular set of crates, close to his position, yet unused as a cover point. In fact, his enemies seemed to be keeping a distance from it, and when he peered at it he could make out words in bright lettering. 

 

Acetone peroxide.

 

Caution: High Explosive.

 

_ Mother of Satan.  _

 

That was why everyone was giving these crates such a wide berth. Acetone peroxide was a primary explosive used in the manufacture of improvised explosive devices. “Primary” meant that it was extremely volatile. Anything could set it off from a flash of heat to a concussive force… 

 

_ Like a grenade.  _

 

Alpha eyed the pair of portable explosives on his belt. An idea of unholy moronic magnitude grew in the back of his head. But even if he could set off the crates, he was too close and his enemies were too far to ensure the survival of the former and the total annihilation of the latter.  _ That’s it!  _ If he could skirt the edge of the warehouse, he would be farther away from an ensuing blast, with the added bonus of potentially corralling the combatants closer to the potential blast zone. 

 

_ Hopefully they’ll be more focused on me then where they store high explosives.  _

 

With his mind made up, Alpha fired a couple shots as cover and sprinted for another set of crates along the side of the warehouse. He slide out the other side, surprising the mountain goat that had hid there. 

 

“S’cuse me,” said Alpha, before a well-placed shot tore out part of the horned mammal’s grey matter. His positioning made a few mammals change cover, moving away from him and closer to the dangerous crates. 

 

_ Guess they don’t notice.  _

 

He gunned down an advancing saola, bullets carving flesh from bone before turning back to the crates. He pulled a grenade off his belt, taking a second to feel the weight of it. He was in a better position to survive a detonation, but could he throw far enough to land a direct hit?

 

The vulpine deftly pulled the pin from the grenade. He lined up a good angel and lobbed the small explosive device. 

 

The grenade arched long, but not long enough. It landed in an open section of warehouse a few yards short of its target and detonating harmlessly. 

 

At least it seemed to scare the hell out of his aggressors, who started shouting and spraying eradically. Alpha could even hear Meowkov loudly vocalizing something through the fray. 

 

_ Good, they’re panicking. _

 

As he fired the last few shots and swapped the magazine in his pistol, an idea struck the tod, one that rivaled the first in utter stupidity. He picked up the rifle the recently deceased goat had been using, holding it by the barrel. He then took the other grenade he held on his utility belt and pulled the pin from it. Drawing on the few months of recreational baseball from his younger days, Nick lobbed the grenade in the air, gripped the gun in both paws, and swung. 

 

This time the grenade flew far in a long trajectory… to land right on top of the highest crate of explosives. 

 

_ Now might be a good time to duck, _ thought the tod. 

 

He did just that. 

  
  
  


Meowkov watched with barely-restrained horror as the shooting continued after his little tête-à-tête with Alpha. Shouldn’t they have gotten him by now?  _ What do I pay these idiots for?! _

 

“Sir! We should go!” Wade spoke up next to him. The wolf’s voice was nearly on the edge of panic. He kept pointing his muzzle towards the open hanger-style doors they were currently standing in front of, a large Catillac SUV conveniently waited just beyond them. “This isn’t getting anywhere! You clearly underestimated Alpha. We need to get out of here now!”

 

“No! Alpha will die! I assure you!” returned the stubborn leopard. A small gathering around him, including the wolf, traded nervous glances. 

 

A grenade blast shocked the group of mammals.

 

“Fine! Die with honor for all I fucking care!” snarled Wade as he turned for the exit. “I’m not sticking around to deal with that  _ demon _ ...”

 

A single round punched through his skull from behind. Meowkov lowered his handgun, as a growl of his own peeled back his lips, exposing menacing fangs. 

 

“HE IS NO DEMON!” raged Meowkov, causing those around him to recoil. “He is one mammal! And he will do what all mammals do and di…”

 

The explosion cut him off.

  
  
  


The stack of Acetone peroxide containers blew in a chain from the top crate downward, the grenade having landed on the highest box. The wood and metal that was once used to contain the dangerous substance now acted as a torrential wave of shrapnel, tearing through any unfortunate flesh in its wake. 

 

This in turn triggered the secondary detonation of a nearby stack of crates containing Karma-knew-what, followed by several other crates of what-in-God’s-name in close proximity to those going up in a glorious fireball. 

 

The end result was what could only be described as a miniature Hellscape within the warehouse. Splinters of wood and bits of mammal lay sprayed and insta-charred in concentric circles, radiating out from the various epicenters of the blasts. Several fires crackled throughout the displayed chaos, systematically spreading with the intent of consuming all in their path. 

 

A lone fox tod sputtered and gagged as he opened his mouth to breathe and was immediately choked on a flood of ash. He peeled open his eyes and stood on unsure hindpaws. His triangular ears rung, but that was not his concern at the moment. 

 

_ Huh, I’d call that a success. Now where is the…  _

 

Taking in his surroundings, he saw the snow leopard and a few nearby cohorts stirring and getting to their feet. 

 

Meowkov gazed at the horror around him, eyes landing on his nearby comrades. Surprisingly, all of them survived… 

 

Wait, Jeff wasn’t moving… 

 

And his ribs were showing… 

 

_ Fuck _ . 

 

Okay,  _ most _ of them survived.

 

_ ( _ **_Accompaniment:_ ** _ How You Like Me Now by The Heavy) _

 

A clattering of wood on concrete alerted him to a spot closer to the rear of the warehouse. A figure stepped forth from the fire and wreckage. 

 

It was Alpha. His red fur was tarnished crimson and grey with blood and soot. His clothing sported similar colorings, along with various rips and gashes. Several claw marks ran across his shoulder and bloodied his shirt, though he seemed not to care, judging by the way he glared daggers at the leopard. His lips peeled back, exposing fangs that glinted in the dancing flames. His left paw clutched at his ribs, his right held an automatic pistol at his side. Blood from his shoulder trickled down his arm and ran red track marks along the grip and metal slide of the gun, culminating in a mild drip from its barrel. A fear gripped Meowkov the likes of which he had never known. 

 

This was no mammal. 

 

This was a demon, a boogiemammal, a creature of unrelenting hatred and malevolent intent. 

 

And it wanted  _ him.  _

 

A single step from the fox had Meowkov stumbled backward, pushing past a few of his underlings, and begin a desperate run to the awaiting SUV just outside. Some shouted in confusion at the display from their fearless leader, but soon realized his reasoning for leaving when they looked opposite his direction. The sight they beheld made some scramble after the leopard. Others frantically reached for their misplaced weapons. 

 

It was too late. 

 

Alpha charged at them full tilt, firing several rounds intended for the mammal beyond them. One managed to catch the leopard in the thigh, forcing him to limp along as his hunter closed on on him from behind. The other rounds either missed or were stopped by one or another unlucky meat shield between the two adversaries. 

 

As Alpha closed the distance, a very disgruntled llama raised his carbine and unleashed a few rounds, hoping to finally subdue the beast barreling towards him and his compatriots. What he witnessed instead, however, was a blur that seemed to outpace his own bullets, jumping over crates and leaping through cover with a feral urgency, before slamming into his leg, causing the larger mammal to stumble forward. 

 

Alpha rammed his shoulder into the llama, before turning and firing a round off into its head mid fall. He then tuck and rolled past a few scattered shots, leaped into the air, and dug his fangs into the neck of an awaiting tiger. Dragging the morbidly confused feline down with him, the fox fired off another round to subdue the big cat before rounding on a goat who had his submachine gun raised. Gripping onto the barrel of the offending weapon,  Alpha was able to redirect the burst of rounds from entering his chest, finalizing the situation with a shot of his own to the other mammal’s abdomen. A glance left told him of a capybara leveling a revolver that appeared far too large for the herbivor. He muscled the barely-dead individual he was still grappled with in between himself and this new foe as a round like a miniature cannon blast practically gutted the unfortunate goat. The magnitude of the shot stunned the capybara for a moment, allowing Alpha to swing around from his now useless shield to strike. His legs weren’t long enough for a good kick, however. Maybe… direct hit! His legs could not reach, but his tail on the other hand was just long enough to bat the hand cannon from the paw of the one who wielded it. The fluffy appendage stung like mad, but that was far from Alpha’s mind as he finalized his assault with the dead goat’s own appropriated submachine gun. The capybara went limp as a hail of rounds chewed him to ribbons. Looking past the fight, the fox saw that the few lucky mammals to survive had dropped their guns and ran, or more often then not limp, for sanctuary. Past this group, however, he could see Meowkov just clambering into the large car. 

 

The entire fight had lasted less than fifteen seconds. 

 

_ I’m getting sloppy _ , mused the tod. 

 

Holstering his pistol, alpha made a dash for the SUV, and his target. His entire body screamed for relief, but there was no way he would let up now. 

 

Meowkov had already escaped him twice.

 

He would not do so again. 

 

As he drew close, Alpha noticed a sizable blue shipping container beside the large vehicle. Before he had time to question his own sanity, the fox pulled out his automatic, while simultaneously leaping onto the side of the container. As the SUV began pulling away with a screech of tires, Alpha took a few bounds along the container, fired two shots into a passenger side window of the automobile, and threw himself at the cracked glass pane, thankfully with enough force to shatter its remains and land within the confines of the car. 

 

He would have to admire the suave, plush interior later, as he raised his gun at the startled snow leopard in the driver’s seat. 

 

Unfortunately for him, the leopard wasn’t startled enough. 

 

Meowkov grabbed at the pistol in the fox’s paw, redirecting the first round into the windscreen, blowing off part of his paw pad when he did so. The pain was excruciating, but not enough to quell the rage within the pale feline. He hissed in a very uncivilized way at the vulpine, who responded in kind, as he jerked the pistol around, another shot puncturing the dashboard. 

 

The SUV continued to speed along the mole, unable to warn its warring occupants of the approaching steel leg of a rusted out loadingdock crane.

 

One moment the fox and feline were quite literally at each other’s throats… 

 

The next moment, when the metallic structure caught the front right side of the SUV, they were flying. 

 

The car jerked heavily to one side as its top heavy nature sent it rolling several yards. Glass and metal spewed forth from its carapace. The wheel on the side of the collision was dislodged on impact and careened off into oblivion. Eventually, the husk of the former SUV came to a stop upside down, its occupants still within. 

 

_ Hurt. Everything hurts _ .  

 

_ Good. Hurt means that you’re alive.  _

 

A fox, or at least what remained of one, crawled out from a shattered window. The throb in his arm told him of an obvious sprain, probably more. Thankfully, he saw the metal crane fast approaching and had managed to curl up at the last minute, lowering his odds of imminent death. He was lucky the car wasn’t going any faster. 

 

He was still flung about like a rag doll though, and it hurt like Hell. 

 

Alpha sat up, thinking off his next move, when his jello-like brain faintly registered the fist coming at him. 

 

Though he saw the incoming strike, he could do little to stop it as it battered into his muzzle. What was left of his mind worked desperately to move him from his spot as another white paw swung at him. This time he managed to duck barely out of the way, and had a clear enough head to see that the white paw was attached to a white, crimson speckled, snow leopard. 

 

“You have taken everything from me!” roared Meowkov as another blow impacted the fox’s skull. “I gave you the privilege of sparing your life, and you bite me! You have destroyed years of work!”

 

Alpha tried to scramble back into the window, only to let out a yelp as his tail was grabbed and he was dragged forcibly back out. A large paw clutched his throat and pinned him to the metal door. Claws digging into flesh. Meowkov’s face was contorted in vile hatred, eyes fixed firmly on those of the vulpine. 

 

He did not notice the metallic glimmer in the fox’s paw of something found in the overturned vehicle. 

 

“You took everything from me,” growled the leopard as he squeezed the fox’s neck that much tighter. “So I will take all that you have. When I am finished with you, your partner will follow.”

 

Alpha made a few guttural coughs and and grunts. 

 

“Anything the esteemed Alpha has to say for his actions?” asked the leopard, his fangs an inch from the tod’s muzzle.

 

A muzzle with the faintest of grins.

 

“It’s… called a… hustle,... sweetheart.”

 

The minuscule click reverberated in Meowkov’s ears like a drumbeat. 

 

“Boom.”

 

The gunshot rang in two sets of ears. At its close range, the bullet tore through the snow leopard’s vitals with impunity. Nick felt the grip on his throat slacken and let out a few coughs as Meowkov staggered back and slowly crumpled to his knees, before toppling over on his side. His breathing hitched as he coughed up far too much blood. 

 

_ ( _ **_Accompaniment:_ ** _ Piano Sonata No. 14 “Moonlight” by Ludwig Van Beethoven) _

 

An undetermined time passed, filled with the sound of two damaged breaths. Finally, one hitched slightly as it spoke.

 

“I… see,” the leopard forced out, barely above a whisper. “You… love her… don’t you?”

 

He turned his head to view the vulpine, who stared back with tired eyes. Nick gave a slight nod to this, and Meowkov saw no deception in his action. 

 

“Ahh…,” said the leopard in a hollow, drawn out breath, followed by a short retching noise and more blood. In his eyes Nick saw not even a syllable of hatred. The eyes soon glassed over, and the rest of the snow leopard went slack. 

 

Nick would swear he saw a flicker of understanding and, dare he say, respect in those eyes, right before they went dark, for the rest of his life. 

 

_ Which shouldn’t be too long now.  _

 

Nick thought back over his existence, the events that led him to this point, and asked himself if it was all worth it. But when he thought thusly, all that crossed his mind was a vision of grey and violet and happiness and peace. 

 

_ Was it worth it?  _

 

_ It was. One hundred percent.  _

 

The churning rush of waves against the dock could be heard just above the nearby crackle of a burning warehouse. The fresh moonlight of early evening shone on blood and glass alike, creating a fractal blanket of stars shining up from the ground. 

 

There were certainly worse places to die. 

 

Nick settled against the SUV, closing his eyes, waiting for the end… 

  
  
  


_ What’s that noise? Sirens? The light at the end of the tunnel is flashing blue and red.  _

 

“Nick!”

 

_ Ah! An angel calls for me! Funny, their voice is oddly familiar… and yet still heavenly. _

 

“Wolford! Call in an ambulance! Officer down!”

 

_ Wolford’s here too? Small afterlife. _

 

The fox let out a low grunt as something small and warm and, opening his eyes slightly, blue and grey in color, wrapped around him. He felt a heartbeat that wasn’t his own hammering against his chest. Small, stubby claws dug into his shoulders. A voice, heavy with worry, brushed past his ear. 

 

“Don’t leave me Nick! I’m here! I won’t let you go!”

 

_ The angel’s embrace isn’t what I expected. It’s fluffy and cute and… this is Judy isn’t it? _

 

The small grey mass dramatically shook him. “Don’t you dare die on me you dumb fox! I’ll bring you back just to kill you a second time if you do!”

 

_ Yup. Definitely Carrots.  _

 

“Car…rots,” the smallest voice escaped his red muzzle. The rabbit looked up at him as her long ears perked. Fear was replaced by shock which in turn gave way to unrestrained joy. 

 

“Nick!” she exclaimed in a far more optimistic tone. The bunny burrowed her face in the scruff of Nick’s neck as she embraced him once more. The blood on him did nothing to deter her loving grip. “You’re going to be fine. I promise!”

 

“So… emotional,” quipped the fox as he took an arm and, with as much strength he could muster, brought it around the rabbit, reciprocating her hug. 

 

And for all his bitter thoughts of pushing her away for her own sake, here and now he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. 

 

“This is Detective Wolford! I have an officer down! I need a medical team and I needed them bloody yesterday!” said a voice from behind Judy. 

 

“Tell them to bring some cleaning supplies while they’re at it,” a feminine voice, Fangmeyer’s voice, followed up. “Fucking shit, Wilde! You really outdid yourself this time!”

 

As the scene of survival, reunion, and resolve played out on the old port, none of the mammals involved noticed the small, circular camera drone, it’s four lift fans humming away in near perfect silence, as it took in everything below. 

  
  
  


_ Is it finished?  _

 

_ Target has been eliminated, along with most of his co-conspirators and business. The rest can be mopped up in due time.  _

 

_ And Nicholas? _

 

_ The asset you mean? _

 

_ I can smell your condescention from here. Yes, the asset.  _

 

_ Alive. Surprisingly.  _

 

_ Is that relief I hear in your voice? _

 

_ For an invaluable, reusable resource such as him staying intact? Most assuredly.  _

 

_ How was the aftermath? _

 

_ The asset appears to be severely injured, but conscious. Multiple contacts arrived shortly after he had completed his mission, all officers. Hopps was among them.  _

 

_ Hopps? That bloody figures. I knew what I told her would probably rile her up, but I should have expected her to forcibly leave the hospital despite the state she was in.  _

 

_ What did you tell her? _

 

_ Only what she needed to know.  _

 

_ You have to stop being so cryptic all the time.  _

 

_ I’m a deep cover operative. Cryptic comes with the job.  _

 

_ Not anymore you’re not. I’m having you pulled out and brought back to Central Operations. Seems your fieldwork is no longer necessary, now that our last loose end has been tied in a nice little bow.  _

 

_ Does that mean we’re finished with Nic… with the asset? _

 

_ Not in the slightest.  _

 

_ Good Karma above, when would we need him again?  _

 

_ Hopefully soon. But one thing at a time. I need to have a chat with Precinct One’s police chief.  _

 

_ You want to help the asset? _

 

_ I want Harold to refrain from any rash action that would loose Alpha back into hiding again. We can’t afford to go fox hunting every time we need him.  _

 

_ Why Kit, I didn’t know you cared so much! _

 

**_Don’t. Call. Me. That._ ** _ How many times do I have to tell you? _

 

_ But you just referred to Chief Bogo as “Harold”. What’s the difference? _

 

_ The difference is I’m not his subordinate. Also I  _ **_hate_ ** _ that nickname.  _

 

_ All right, fine. It’s been two decades since you were promoted and you still act like you have a bloody god complex.  _

 

_ I’m Director of the Zootopian Sovereignty Intelligence Agency. God complex comes with the job.  _

 

_ Touché.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Feels good to be back doing action sequences! Even if some moments are a little contrived (Don’t try using a grenade as a baseball at home, kids!). But I had fun with this chapter regardless. Hopefully you have fun reading it!
> 
> I have posted a Zootopia one shot I have been working on for some time now, but didn’t know what to do with it. It’s called Project Calantha and it’s canon to the Alpha series. Go check it out! 
> 
> This work has passed the 150 mark for kudos! Huzzah! Many thanks!


	14. Fallout

_ Our top story this evening, a shootout at an abandoned shipping port in the Canals District occurred last night between a gang of high profile gun smugglers and the ZPD’s own first fox police officer, Nicholas Wilde. At least a dozen of the gang members involved are dead, along with the gang’s leader, Ivan Meowkov, a former special forces operative from the Union of Zooviet Socialist Republics.  _

 

_ Officer Wilde is reported to have received multiple injuries himself, and although the extent of his injuries has yet to be released to the public, he has been confirmed alive and in stable condition.  _

 

_ Here’s hoping a speedy recovery for a mammal who is a credit to both the ZPD and his species.  _

 

_ And now over to Chuck with sports… _

  
  


“What do you mean  _ someone is in my office _ ?!” roared the Cape buffalo. 

 

Yes, roared is the best term, thought the cheetah at the front desk, as he appeared to visibly implode under the glare of Precinct one’s police chief. 

 

“They-they s-showed me a  _ very _ official looking badge and-and just walked by saying they’d be in-in your-your-yo…” Clawhauser didn’t get to finish his stammering as the wall of hatred stormed passed his reception desk. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was over and nearly collapsed off his chair. 

 

Chief Bogo stomped up the flight of stairs to the upper level of the precinct, parting mammals like a sea in the presence of a holy being. He found his office door somewhat ajar and barreled through it. 

 

Inside, he found what must have been the source of his discomfort on this day. 

 

The intruder stood by Bogo’s large oak office desk, holding a glass of appropriated whiskey from Bogo’s liquor cabinet. Deep creases spindled across his face and muzzle, white and grey had replaced most other colors in his fur. His age was apparent from first glance. Yet upon closer inspection, he was nowhere near senile. His back was regimentally straight and his movements were almost mechanical. His body, though not on the level of physical prowess as the taller buffalo, held a form that exhumed strength, brought forth from decades of conflict. The fact that he stood here in such worn yet infallible condition was testament to his nearly consistent victories in life. As he turned to face the chief, his predatory gaze and smile that held no mirth nearly made Bogo flinch. 

 

The fact that an impala was giving him such a look unnerved him all the more.

 

“Harold,” greeted the impala with all the hospitality of one speaking with an ant to be crushed beneath his foot. The horned mammal held up his glass of the brown alcohol. “I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty. After this week I needed it.”

 

The two had known one another for nearly a decade, ever since Bogo became chief of Precinct One. However, little was ever spoken between the two, partially because the impala happened to be the director of the Zootopian Sovereignty Intelligence Agency, the premier organization in Zootopia tasked with foreign and domestic data analysis and covert operations, and thus was a very busy mammal, but mostly for the simple matter that they tended to get on each other’s nerves. 

 

Bogo could feel a migraine coming on.

 

This would be one such painful confrontation. 

 

“Director Kitridge,” acknowledged the chief, keeping his eye twitch to a minimum. “To what do I owe the, uh, pleasure.”

 

The “uh” was deliberate. They both knew it. 

 

“You saw the press release today?” asked Kitridge. 

 

“Yes I did,” said Bogo. “I take it you had a say in keeping my Officer’s true actions from leaking.”

 

“If you’re worried about bad publicity, don’t be. The press would never believe that Officer Wilde was the bad guy anyway,” said Kitridge. “My agency is already on top of it. We placated the masses with the better story of a Cold War relic of a feline conducting an illegal smuggling ring under the muzzles of the public.  _ That _ will keep them in comfortable gossip through the current news cycle.”

 

“Why are you here?” demanded the buffalo. He was never one for skirting an issue, which in this case was a mammal he clearly despised was in his office, uninvited, drinking his liquor, unoffered. 

 

“Well, Harold, to be perfectly frank, I’m here to discuss a recent predicament regarding your Officer Wilde.”

 

“Really?” said Bogo as he raised an eyebrow. “Considering all that has transpired I should have known the Intelligence Agency had its hooves in the affairs of my officers.”

 

The use of hooves was also deliberate. 

 

“Not all of your officers, Harold, just the one that worked for us.”

 

“Detectives Wolford and Fangmeyer have informed me of what was told to them by one of your operatives. Apparently my Officer Wilde has quite the history.”

 

Kitridge rubbed his temples with a splayed hoof. “Cain is hardly what I’d call an operative, pain in the ass more like, but I’m glad he was able to provide some context into our project. 

 

“So you admit to having a part in this?”

 

The impala took another sip of whiskey. “Oh, not just a part, the whole thing was my idea.”

 

The buffalo narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

 

“You see, Harold, I, as with you… well, more so even, have an organization with numerous moving parts to keep track of, like the pieces of a clock. Each component has their own place within the system and functions in their own specific way. I like to think I’m quite good at mantaining such a finely tuned instrument so it ticks away smoothly. That being said, a while ago I lost a pretty unique piece of this clock. Broken, just like that. Replacing it was difficult to say the least, but I learned to keep the clock going without it. 

 

“Then one day, out of the blue, this piece shows up in, of all places, someone else’s clock, ticking away as though it were fresh off the watchmaker’s table. What could I do but see if it still fit?”

 

“Does this metaphor have a point?”

 

Kitridge let out a sigh. “The point, Harold, is you may know him as Nicholas Wilde, but that clock piece was once Alpha, the best damn weapon the Zootopian Sovereignty Intelligence Agency has ever put to use. His combat skills were unprecedented. His ability to think on his feet was unmatched. Hell, his species was a boon in and of itself. Would you expect a fox to be capable of the things he was? Would you expect a fox to be playing for  _ our _ side like he was? Of course not! And neither did the mammals he eliminated. In four years of operation he racked up a kill count of over a hundred high value targets each one deemed a threat to national security, not including the countless degenerates and thugs that worked for them. I wanted to see if he could do it again.”

 

“And this gives you the right to use Officer Wilde?” said the chief. He was becoming tired of the impala’s ramblings. 

 

“No, but the mammal he eliminated, Ivan Meowkov, does. Ivan was a bit of a sore spot for the agency, and he was getting worse. Our operatives capable of handling the task are spread far too thin as it is. Anyone else we sent in wouldn’t have made it out alive, that includes our inside mammal. We could have offed him eventually, but waiting was dangerous, and the return of an old asset presented a unique opportunity for us.”

 

“This Ivan must have been quite the threat if you were willing to “borrow” Wilde.” said Bogo. 

 

“More than you know,” said Kitridge, as he pulled a small black recording device from his pocket. He hit play. The voice that came through had a layer of static, though it’s words were clear as day. 

 

_ “...We will find that bunny and force that fox to trade his life for hers…” _

 

Kitridge paused the recording. “That was recorded by a bug in the office of Ivan Meowkov, moments before Alpha... I mean Wilde, carried out my orders. You must understand, Ivan had amassed a sizable collection of illegal military grade weapons. Even if he hadn’t gotten to Officer Hopps, irreparable damage would have been dealt.”

 

“A compelling argument,” commented Bogo, as he circumvented his desk to his large, comfortable office chair, clasping his hooves together on the oak flat top. Ironically, while sitting, he seemed to grow even more ominous to the impala. “But you still haven’t stated your intentions behind it. If you want Wilde back, just get to the point.”

 

“Quite the contrary,” said Kitridge. The chief raised his eyebrows a fraction. “My intentions, Harold, are to prevent you from firing him. I know he’s no longer my piece. I accept it. Keep him, he’s your officer now, but don’t fire him.”

 

“Why would you care if I fire my officer for misconduct or not?” asked the buffalo, as he leaned forward. “What game are you playing?” 

 

Kitridge seemed to ponder this question for a second, before throwing out “How is he, by the way?” 

 

This question caught the chief completely off guard. He took a moment to compose an answer. “His physician said most of his injuries are superficial. He is expected to make a full recovery in a few weeks.”

 

“Good,” said the impala. “I’ll send over an agency psychiatrist, one of our best. Be certain he visits regularly when he has recovered well enough.”

 

Kitridge finished off the last of his drink, “After all the shit we made that fox do, the least he deserves is a second chance.”

 

Bogo studies his horned adversary closely. He saw a flicker in his eyes of… was that regret? Perhaps Kitridge  _ was  _ concerned for Wilde. He obviously held him in high regard.

 

But what to do about the fox in question? He was manipulated into his current predicament, that much was certain. The multitude of variables involved was staggering (particularly the grotesquely arrogant variable standing across from him). Wilde was a good fox, he was just caught in the middle of a horrible game of superiors flexing their departmental muscles. 

 

Inevitably, the weight that tipped the scales and swayed the chief to keep Wilde on the force were his musings containing his other smallest officer, Judy Hopps. He hardly thought of one of them without the other anymore. She was a remarkable mammal, able to always see the best in others, and yet had learned to think critically of situations thanks to her proximity to Wilde. 

 

Apart from their report of the fox, his detectives also gave an account of the rabbit officer’s fervent belief that Nicholas was the victim in all of this. She ignored their protests for her own well being and went along with them to the fox’s reported location. They described how she bolted from the car, completely neglecting her recent injuries, and wrapped herself around Wilde’s nearly dead form. 

 

He believed every word of it. 

 

Judy Hopps had her faults, but when she vouched for someone, she stood by it until the end. She always saw the best in her fellow mammals, especially Wilde. It was a quality Bogo had forgotten in his years of developing a thick skin against a harsh world. How he longed for that form of optimism, no,  _ decency towards others _ , once more. 

 

If she trusted this fox to be a good fox, so would he. 

 

“I can assure you that  _ Officer _ Wilde will stay where he is,” said the chief. He saw no small amount of relief in the impala’s eyes. 

 

Time to press the advantage.

 

“However,” said Bogo, as his voice took on a darker tone. “what is to stop me from telling the press everything you said here? I’m sure “domestic conspiracy by unchecked government agency” would be just as enticing to them as “Zooviet gun smuggler” wouldn’t it?”

 

Kitridge let his calm facade slip into one of malice. He placed his hooves on the chief’s desk and lent forward, staring an angry buffalo in the face.

 

“Self preservation,” he enunciated. “You think this is the first time the Intelligence Agency did something the fucking public wouldn’t like to catch wind of? Nothing gets by my agency, Harold. We’ve been covering up our fucked up actions for decades, your claims will be no different. Even if it does leak, I’m sure the public would be outraged to know  _ you _ let a mammal like Alpha into your department, knowingly or otherwise. It will ruin your career. I’ve been in politics a long time, Harold, I know how these things go.”

 

The silence that followed lasted an eternity compressed into a few seconds, the two herbivores bearing down on one another. In an instant, the blank smile was back on the impala’s muzzle. “You’re a smart mammal, Harold. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”

 

With that, Director Kitridge took his leave. 

 

When he was gone, Chief Bogo let out a wholly unprofessional snort. 

 

“Prick.”

 

He took a bottle of hard liquor and a highball from his cabinet and poured a generous amount for himself. 

 

It was an atrocious evening. 

  
  
  


Below in the atrium of the vast Precinct One building, a different confrontation was taking place. 

 

“It’s good to hear Wilde’s gonna recover quickly” said Fangmeyer, as she and Wolford exited the building. Bogo had given each of them a week off, a gift they were both more than thankful for. 

 

“You can say that again,” replied her canine partner, “Better yet, Hopps gets time off with him. Something about “needlessly endangering herself when her body is still recovering” means she’s on mandatory leave for the time being.”

 

“Ha!” barked the tiger. “Classic Hopps!”

 

“What would the world be without her?” quipped Wolford, earning him even more of Fangmeyer’s infectious laugh. 

 

The two of them waved goodbye to Clawhauser, before exiting the front of the precinct. It was late in the day. The sky above cascaded from blue to a brilliant clementine, flecked with purple clouds. The sun was a focal point of all this, as it’s last bands began to settle behind the cosmopolitan megastructures of the city. 

 

They strolled for a few content steps before Wolford cleared his throat. 

 

“So… you doing anything later?” he asked. Fangmeyer could swear she saw red in his ears and around his muzzle where the fur was sparser. 

 

She decided to have fun with it. 

 

“Nothing interesting, perhaps a little grooming,” she said with a flat tone. 

 

The wolf tripped over his hind paws at this statement. He reined in his emotions as he caught up with her. Now she was certain there was red skin under that charcoal grey fur. 

 

She decided to throw him a lifeline. 

 

“Buuuuuut, I could go for a good time with some company,” she said. She was oblivious to the possible connotation of her words until Wolford‘s ears perked up and a smug grin crossed his muzzle. Her ears flattened and pace slowed, tail flicking wildly as her eyes darted in all directions. “I mean… fun as in… you know… hang out… watch some movies… eat at a Pred Lobster… with… ya know… you… maybe?”

 

_ Fuck lifeline! I just gave him the other end of my damn noose! _

 

Wolford waltzed around in front of the taller feline, stopping her in her tracks, his grin would have made a certain fox proud. “Why Officer Fangmeyer, are you asking me on a date, hmm?”

 

The rest of Fangmeyer’s body began to twitch along with her tail. Her ears flicked back as she struggled over a tongue that felt coated in quickly drying cement. While she worked to find coherent sentences, she hardly noticed Wolford reach his paw up and place a clawed finger directly on the tip of her nose. When she did it was too late. 

 

“Boop.”

 

The act shocked the tigress out of her stupor. She shook her head and stared down at the canine before her.  _ Did he just…  _

 

“You know what, Irene? As a matter of fact I would love to go on a date with you,” said Wolford. His expression shifted from smug to one of… something Fangmeyer could not quite place, but it was sincere, and she liked it nonetheless. 

 

The wolf turned to continue walking, the tigress falling into step beside him. 

 

“Sly wolf.”

 

“Dumb tiger.”

 

They both halted their gaits simultaneously. Two sets of eyes widened at the exchange that had taken place… and it’s haunting similarity to another they were both all too familiar with. 

 

“Did we just…”

 

“I won’t say a bloody thing to them if you won’t.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

The pair continued on their stroll, a peaceful silence settling on the two of them. After a moment, Fangmeyer’s tail proceeded to flick across Wolford’s arm, causing his smile to widen. Within another moment, the canine had taken the feline’s larger paw, and held it gently in his as they carried on their way. 

 

It was a lovely evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> This chapter...
> 
> This MOTHERFUCKER of a chapter... 
> 
> After weeks of writing, paragraph fixes, a complete overhaul to the middle section, and a slew of final touch ups, I can honestly say that... it’s still not what I wanted. But it’s better. 
> 
> So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. 
> 
> I know! The duo were not directly in this one. This chapter was to tie up loose ends. NEXT chapter I have been thinking over for months, and will have far more fox and rabbit per square paragraph. 
> 
> Over 3600 hits and 162 Kudos!   
> Woohoo! 
> 
> I need a drink... or five.


	15. Dancing with Demons

_If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life. -Oscar Wilde_

  
  


“Nick!” the sharp call of a grey rabbit fired through the door for the third time.

 

She was standing outside the fox’s apartment, having obtained its address from Clawhauser, demanding entrance.

 

“Nick! Open this door right now!” Fear and anger fueled her as she pounded on the wooden barrier once more.

 

Had he hurt himself? She remembered what Doctor Pierce had said when Nick was first put in bed after the operation three days ago.

 

_Sprained left wrist, mild concussion, various pulled ligaments, shredded… yes, shredded is the right word for this…  muscles on his right shoulder and back from the claw marks, and enough bruises and scrapes to cover half of New Zooland. There will be scarring, but he should recover with time. All in all, he’s a very lucky fox._

 

She had stayed with him that night, sleeping in a nearby chair that was several sizes too big for her. He had slept through the next day as well. She knew he did because she was still there with him. She left his side only for food and to use the adjoining bathroom.

 

The second day fared no better. The only change was the company. Wolford and Fangmeyer had stopped by, along with the chief, who informed Judy that Nick would not be fired from the force, citing outside coercing. She knew there was more to the story, but was grateful for the news nonetheless.

 

Then, on the third day, the unthinkable happened.

 

The rabbit awoke to find Nick no longer in his bed. She did not think they had transferred him, and several interrogations of the hospital staff confirmed her worst fears: Nick had fled the hospital.

 

He must have snuck out in the middle of the night. Thankfully, a quick call had informed her of his home address; as good a place to start searching as any.

 

She had been here for several minutes now, pounding on the door with her fist. A slew of questions in her head. Most notably, why had he run off? He was in no condition to leave the safety of his recovery bed. Regardless of the reason, she made it her goal to find out.

 

_Fine. If he wants to play this game, I’ll play to win._

 

Determination settling in her veins, Judy took several strides back from the barrier separating her from her fox.

 

Then, with as much energy as a tired and sore rabbit could muster, she charged.

  
  


 

Nick wasn’t having the best of days. His body still felt like it was hit by a truck, which didn’t help his slogging back to his apartment at night. It got worse when the shouting outside his door indicated that Judy had followed him home. _Dumb fox. She’s a police officer! She would figure out…_

 

The icing on this shitstorm of a day came when his thought was cut off by the distinct sound of his front door being kicked in, and the familiar rabbit bursting through after it.

 

“Sweet fucking Karma, Judy! You can’t go breaking into someone’s den like that!” growled Nick from beside his couch. The fur on his tail instinctively puffed out. His shirt was off and he saw her expression flicker in concern at the bandages that covered his torso, concentrating at his right arm and shoulder. Orange and cream fur was as disheveled as ocean waves across the fox’s body. He looked an absolute mess.

 

“Hey!” the rabbit shot back as she stormed up to the taller predator before her, seemingly unfazed by his display. Her bright amethyst eyes augered into Nick’s green irises. “First of all, language! Secondly, you have no right to be angry when _you_ were the one who ran off, without warning, to…to…”

 

It was at this moment that Judy’s gaze swiveled to what was on Nick’s couch. Several shirts, pants, and other articles of clothing were in different stages of folding and packing. An olive green duffel bag was plopped arbitrarily on the accompanying coffee table, along with several wallets, their contents dissected from their sagging forms. Her eyes widened at the amount of cash by each.

 

It tore at Nick’s heart when she let out a small gasp at seeing the handgun that was laid alongside them.

 

“Nick,” she began slowly, turning to look back up at him. “Why are you packing?”

 

“Carrots…”

 

“You were going on the run, weren’t you?”

 

The fox steeled his expression. He turned away from the beautiful creature before him. “Judy, just walk away from this.”

 

“And let you throw your life away?” she said as she slowly padded up behind him. He felt the brush of her soft paw on his arm. “I won’t.”

 

“And why not?!” snapped the fox, as he wheeled on the rabbit. She backed up a step, but held her ground. His ears pinned back and a snarl ripped past his exposed fangs. He felt his claws extend involuntarily. He must have looked the picture of death incarnate. “I’m a bad fox with mental issues, Hopps! I’m the reason you shouldn’t give my species any leeway! What makes you think you’re not standing near a _psychotic murderer?!_ ”

 

_Who does this dumb bunny think she is? I am Alpha! I’ve killed mammals a dozen times her size! She should be running in terror, pulling out handcuffs, going for the gun, anything but this!_

 

Judy did none of these things. Instead her features took on a more melancholy look, her ears fell back behind her head. “Arthur Cain visited me in the hospital. He told me all about you.”

 

It was as if a glass bottle had been shattered against the red fox’s head. Nick’s vicious glare dropped immediately. Hackles lowering, and with a cautious tempo, he asked her, “What did he tell you?”

 

The grey doe crossed her arms across her chest, her gaze flicked between him and the ground. Was she afraid to tell him? What he might do to her after?

 

No, nothing could scare that rabbit. She was afraid _for_ him.

 

“I learned how you’re a lot younger than you say you are, how you’ve been through so much fighting, how you lost both your mom and dad. No mammal should have dealt with what you had to, Nick.”

 

As she talked, each point Judy made was a gunshot that tore through Nick’s chest. It dropped him back on the couch, his expression and ears fell with the emotional fortress he maintained so studiously.

 

“You’ve also only had this apartment for a little while, haven’t you? That bridge I found you under months ago wasn’t just a hideaway,” she added. There was no accusation in her tone, only the need to understand.

 

Guilt pooled in Nick’s stomach. Judy had proven at that bridge that his species was not a point of judgement for her. He felt shame for dragging that into his earlier verbal outlash. Now he learned that she knew his story, at least most of it, and the guilt began to rile and devour him from the inside.

 

His voice was like sandpaper when he spoke. “I was going to tell you.”

 

Judy sat down beside him, taking his paw in hers. “I know you were. If the last week happened differently, I’m sure you would have, because I believe in you, Nick.”

 

They sat there for a while, Nick’s paw held in Judy’s despite the considerable size difference between the two. Her’s was so soft! Fingers like velvet caressed his paw pads, which in contrast were calloused and scarred with everything he had done. She did not flinch in the slightest, even going so far as to feel the tips of his claws. How many mammals had been brutalized by those? He had lost count. And yet she thumbed them so gently, as though she felt they would shatter like porcelain.

 

“He didn’t say everything though,” said Judy suddenly. The fox looked up at her with curiosity.

 

“What I want to know, Nick, is why you decided to stop being Alpha.”

 

Nick’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, like a fish gasping out of water. In the time following his desertion, he had told no one of the reason for his leaving.

 

Then again, there’s a first time for everything.

 

Nick curled his fingers around Judy’s paw, and with a sigh, steadied his breathing.

 

_Inhale, exhale._

 

“It was raining, maybe thundering…”

  
  
  


_(_ **_Accompaniment:_ ** _Five Years by David Bowie)_

 

_Two years ago._

  
  
  


Alpha didn’t mind the rain. Not like he had a choice.

 

He was located at the edge of the northern climate wall, one of several monolithic grey superstructures that divided the various artificial biomes making up the great city of Zootopia. The Rainforest District was living up to its name tonight, as a torrential downpour created by automated sprinklers matted his fur and made him look gaunt and feral.

 

His target had no name. Alpha needed no such indulgences. All he was given was a species and physical description.

 

Beaver, mid-forties, riding in a black Catillac sedan. License plate 42RF7N1.

 

Alpha had been at this for four years now. His success in the matter was assured.

 

He had good intel the car would be passing through this section of the climate wall. Unfortunately, both highway entrances were monitored by cameras, making outright assault difficult to say the least. However, there were no cameras within the tunnel, it was just a matter of getting inside and finding the right angle.

 

That was where maintenance tunnel 6B came in.

 

The smaller service route entered from the northern end of the climate wall and bifurcated the highway tunnel within. The camera system to the tunnel was down for repairs, meaning Alpha could slip in undetected, complete his mission and leave with hardly a trace.

 

A shadow crept across pavement into an industrial opening in the side of the concrete wall. Once inside it gave a quick canine shake to rid itself of excess waterlog. Alpha looked over his gear, an outfit consisting of black on black with several mounts for ammo, gear, and a matte black semi-automatic pistol on his left torso, along with the menacing oversized weapon he clutched in his paws. He then slunk into the dark, sparsely illuminated tunnel.

 

Within minutes he was at the intersection between tunnels. The artificial glow from the tunnel lights was brighter here, but only somewhat, the shadow was still hidden from view of those passing by. Not that it was such a concern, it was far too late at night for the average commuter. He readied his firearm, revealed in the light to be a large caliber anti-material rifle, designed with recoil compensation in mind for his smaller frame.

 

This included the fact that the gun held a single round.

 

He only needed the one.

 

Alpha propped the gun up on a length of tubing that ran along the wall like a great metal serpent. He held his position, waiting for the right vehicle to appear.

 

There! Rounding the slight curve in the tunnel was the black sedan, it’s license plate was a match for the one of his target.

 

He would have to hit it now, when the tunnel’s curve and his angle of attack gave him a decent shot at the front tire.

 

There was no time to waste. Alpha lined up a shot and fired.

 

The concussive blast kicked his shoulder back painfully as the specially designed armor piercing round streaked from the barrel and rammed its way into the front right wheel of the vehicle, destroying rubber and metal alike. Whether it made it into the engine block or not Alpha could not tell. It mattered little as the driver instantly lost control of the sedan and swerved at highway speed into the wall past Alpha, before flipping once, twice, three times, and laying still, a wounded animal that had resigned itself to its fate.

 

Alpha immediately discarded the rifle and brandished the automatic pistol as he advanced on the upturned car. As he neared the wreckage the driver side door opened to reveal a haggard looking zebra, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead as he spilt forth from the wreck. The equine looked up at Alpha in horror, his expression reflected in the fox’s callous green eyes, before a black paw raised a black gun and several pops echoed throughout the tunnel, accompanied by an equal number of red plumes from the body of the now dead herbivore.

 

The sound of broken glass being rustled on pavement had Alpha’s pointed ears jolting and swiveling in the direction of the noise. The other mammal in the car was still alive. He moved around the rear of the vehicle to find a male beaver dragging himself across the ground, a trail of blood leading from the car to his ungainly form. The fox casually walked up to the dying target, who turned over at his approach.

 

Blood smeared the beaver’s muzzle. Internal bleeding. He would probably die soon regardless of what Alpha did.

 

It always paid to be thorough.

 

The vulpine took aim as the mammal on the ground began coughing up more of the red liquid, obviously trying to say something, but the words were lost as incoherent sputtering.

 

“Please…” the beaver finally pushed out between gasps, eyes fixated on the barrel of Alpha’s gun. “I-I have a-a…”

 

The sharp clack of the handgun and acrid smell of spent powder silenced him. Alpha put another round into the body for good measure. Target neutralized.

 

Now, onto the boring part.

 

To confirm to his handler that the correct target had been eliminated was sometimes a challenge, as different mammals would end up at different distances and levels of “togetherness” after the matter. Luckily, Alpha had a variety of identification systems at his disposal. Far away kills might need a photograph but close up it was easier to simply take a wallet or personal affect.

 

Not like Alpha ever killed the wrong mammal anyway.

 

A quick rummage through the pocket of his kill provided the fox with a brown wallet. His ears perked in satisfaction as he turned to make his way back.

 

He almost missed the small folded paper that fell from the wallet.

 

Slowly, Alpha bent to retrieve it. It was less than an inch squared, with creases at the edges that foreshadowed a larger paper. Gripping it between his claws, Alpha unfolded the laminated curiosity…

 

Only to have his eyes widen in shock.

 

It was a photograph, a few years old at most. It depicted a trio of beavers, a young male and an older male and female, smiling back at him without a care in the world. The older male was clearly the father; mid-forties with chestnut fur.

 

He was also clearly the mammal whose head Alpha had moments ago put a bullet in.

 

Alpha blinked, and in his place stood Nick. Nick, who remembered asking his mother about why the other kits at school had dads but not him. Nick, who grew up wishing he could have met his father, the strong, brave, and kind fox he had only heard stories of.

 

He had taken a father and husband. What for? He did not know the purpose behind taking a target, he never did. Alpha’s only purpose was to kill.

 

_Monster._

 

The thought tore Nick apart from the inside. He staggered and braced himself on the tunnel wall. It held firm, unlike the one he used to cast indifference on his work, which was falling as he stood.

 

_A wife lost her husband. A son lost his father. Sound familiar?_

 

His breath was ragged and quick. It filled his ears that were pinned against his skull.

 

_How many more families were ripped apart by your actions?_

 

A wave of guilt flooded Nick’s conscious. He felt like he would drown in his own head.

 

_You don’t even know why you pulled the trigger on them! You just do what you’re told like the good little instrument of death that you are!_

 

Nick shook his head, trying to empty it of these thoughts. Like a pathogen they spread throughout his consciousness. The tunnel was closing in on him. He had to get out! Turning so fast he that he stumbled into the upturned sedan, Nick hardly saw anything in his blurred vision as his legs carried him back through the maintenance tunnel as fast as they could go.

 

The vulpine burst forth back into the night. The chill of the night air set his fur on end. He jerked back against a concrete barrier and slid down into a seated position. His paws clasped the sides of his head, claws breaking skin, as he continued this spiral.

 

 _Killer! Monster! Savage!_ **_Demon!_ **

 

All he could do was hold his head as his vision swam with tears. The metallic texture of the gun that was still in his paw pressed against his brow.

 

 _The gun_ …

 

Nick brought it into his field of view and examined it. The guilt and anger he felt was overwhelming, all consuming. It would be so simple to rid himself of it.

 

Nick raised the gun and pressed the barrel to his temple. The hot steel burned the skin through his fur. His eyes squeezed shut as a trembling finger hovered over the end to everything. He gritted his teeth and braced himself…

 

… for an out that never came. Slowly Nick opened his eyes and lowered the handgun. He couldn’t go through with it. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the night sky. With the artificial rain system shut off the canopy opened up into a night sky that was not black, but filled with the light of the moon, it’s silver glow cast upon several large clouds, lining them in grey and lavender.

 

Nick raised the gun again, to smack himself in the forehead. _Stupid, stupid fox!_ That wasn’t the answer. Ending his own life wouldn’t make up for those he took. It was a coward’s way out.

 

He still felt dirty, however, as used things were want to do. He had taken so many lives, thinking it was for a good cause, never knowing why he did.

 

He tried working with the good guys, and this was where it got him. Why bother being anything more than a fox?

 

For now, the only thing to do was keep living.

 

Getting to his feet, the fox discarded the gun in some nearby brush. He wandered off into the night, shoulders slumped with his gaze on the pavement.

 

_I can’t go back to the apartment, they would track me there. What to do for money? Maybe Finn would want some help with his schemes again. Just like old times…_

  
  
  


They sat in silence when the story finished. Nick felt like he had run a marathon; tired and strained, but with an unusually uplifting feeling, a sense of accomplishment.

 

Judy had remained perfectly still through the entire recounting, hanging on his every word. Occasionally, the paw that clutched his own would give a light squeeze of encouragement to continue.

 

Now, after he had finished, many breaths following in fact, the rabbit spoke. “Nick, what you did, it was ordered by someone, someone you thought you could trust. The fact that you made the choice to leave says so much about you.”

 

“But you know what?” continued the doe with a steady gaze. “All of this shit, and all your explanations, don’t matter to me.

 

Nick flinched lightly, but a soft paw that found its way to the side of his muzzle brought with it comfort and reassurance.

 

“Because I already know you’re a good fox.”

 

Now it was Nick’s turn to hang on her every word. Judy gave a gentle smile. “You’re the fox that helped me through the toughest obstacles of my life, the fox that stood up for me when my own colleagues looked down at me… yes I know they do that literally, stop smirking… You’re the fox that forgave me when I insulted you, your species, and every predator on Earth.”

 

Nick found himself pressing his cheek into the rabbit’s touch. He closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of contact, before opening them once more. “You’re worth forgiving, Judy.”

 

At once, Judy’s expression hardened into one of determination. “You _are_ a good fox, Nick. I knew that you were good even before I learned your past. If it takes me the rest of my life I _will_ show you that truth; make it so you never try to throw your life away again.”

 

She wrapped her arms around him.

 

“I love you _too much_ to let that happen.”

 

That was the last straw.

 

The fox brought his arms around the bunny, holding her close. The final ramparts crumbled, and he was exposed. He did not know when the tears began, but they flowed freely. Years of anger, regret, fear, and countless other emotional minutia released as one. He shook violently with it, as though battered by an ocean squall. He clung to the grey life raft before him as he weathered this storm.

 

Then, a faint light on the horizon. The clouds began to scatter. All that was left was her. Her who gave him strength like no other. She must have felt this shift because she pulled back to stare up into his eyes, only kindness was found within.

 

He did not deserve her.

 

But he decided he would try.

 

The rabbit gripped the scruff of his neck, and pulled his head down until their lips met in a tender kiss. It was short, lacking passion, though passion was not needed. This kiss was a token of understanding. A promise that they would be there for each other. That their love was true.

 

It made the fur across Nick’s vulpine body fluff out with electric bliss.

 

“I love you, Judy Hopps,” he said once they finally parted.

 

They embraced once more, content in the warmth shared between them.

 

“Is that what I think it is?” Judy broke the silence, her vision going past the fox and causing him to turn and look at the record player her gaze rested on.

 

“You betcha, Fluff. It’s my prized possession,” he said as she stood from the sofa and padded softly to the audio device. Her paws found his collection of vinyl and began to peruse them with vigor, the young tod watched with earnest from his plush couch. “Since when did you like record players?”

 

“Since my dad still has the one my grandfather owned. I’d use it everyday after school while studying,” said the rabbit. She pulled one album out after another, examining their covers, before returning them to their original homes. Nick watched this as he leant on the armrest, his head atop his crossed arms. The simple observation of her enjoyment was intoxicating.

 

“Gotta say, Slick,” said Judy as she brought forth a Pred Zeppelin album, “You really sure you’re in your twenties?”

 

“Ha, funny,” said Nick with unspirited sarcasm. “A mammal can’t appreciate classics? It’s called being eclectic, Carrots.”

 

“Sure it is… Hey! This one’s really good!” The bunny exclaimed as she pulled out another. She proceeded to set the record on the turntable with careful dexterity and place the needle on top of that.

 

 **_(Accompaniment:_ ** _Lady Stardust by David Bowie)_

 

Immediately, the soft tunes of a piano filled the apartment. It’s tempo was slower and light, yet strong and dynamic. Nick recognized it instantly.

 

Lady Stardust by David Boarie.

 

Accompanying this piece was the rhythmic motions of his rabbit, who moved with such grace as he had never seen before. She sashayed over to him, and with a light grip on his paw, brought him to his feet. His arms moved as if by instinct around her waist, as hers moved to his shoulders… until the wince he gave reminded her of his wound. She made a hasty apology and avoided the tender spot by relocating her arm to his chest, feeling the thump of his heart as if it were music all its own.

 

They began to move with the sound of slow rock music. No complex motion, just a light back and forth. Eventually, Nick would throw in a soft twirl to Judy here and there, making his rabbit giggle.

 

“I thought you didn’t like dancing,” she said with her nose buried in the fur of his chest.

 

“What gave you that impression?”

 

“Remember the concert?” asked Judy.

 

Nick did remember. It was after his second day on the force and a staple memory chronicling his feelings for the bunny. How could he forget?

 

“Ah! wrong place and time, Carrots,” said Nick with a dramatic inflection. “Gazelle’s good, but her music isn’t my type.”

 

“I see…” said Judy, obviously waiting to here the rest. A single claw tipped her head back, eyes locking with those of the vulpine.

 

“And I don’t dance for other mammals, Judy, just you.”

 

“Cheesy fox,” said Judy as she wrapped her arms further around his waist.

 

“Wonderful bunny,” crooned Nick as he placed his muzzle between her ears. He felt a thrill as she stroked the fur on his back. Their bodies continued to sway in time with the classic song.

 

A warmth spread throughout the fox’s body. His mind was fuzzy with emotion. His paws held static where they met Judy’s storm grey fur. Was this truly love?

 

Now that he was here, it seemed like such a small word, too small even, to fully encapsulate the feeling he held now. Words in general lost their weight when held against this.

 

Through all his life, Nicholas Wilde had struggled with the concept of happiness and love. The lack of a father and loss of a mother had wrenched at his very soul. As Alpha he thought he had found a solution; build walls, seal himself from the world. The more emotion he could hold back, the better.

 

But when the dam broke, its destruction was all the more terrible.

 

Since then, he lived as an indifferent husk of a mammal, unable to bring himself to be concerned with the world or how it saw him. It was his last great bastion of psychological defense. All who bombarded him were met with a salvo of sarcasm. It was infallible.

 

And a singular grey rabbit practically knocked it aside with a swipe of her paw.

 

Since then, Nick had seen the world through her vibrant, amethyst eyes. He saw the potential, the courage, the resolve to do the right thing. It was a feeling he had thought was lost in the wreckage of Alpha: purpose. Purpose to make the world a better place. She had truly made him whole once more.

 

How could a word like love ever describe such feelings he had for her?

 

As they swayed and turned around the little apartment, paw in paw, fox and rabbit, Nick vowed to himself that, no matter the future, he would show this miracle with floppy ears and a puffy tail how he felt for her. His actions from then on would express everything that mere words could not. He would show her that he was a good fox.

 

And so they danced.

 

And so they danced together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And he was alright, the band was all together  
> Yes he was alright, the song went on forever...
> 
> (God, I love that song)
> 
> This isn’t quite the end of the first arc, I have a few final words to get in. I’ll try to get that done before the semester starts. Shouldn’t take too long...


	16. Epilogue: The Game

Kitridge hated the cold. He blamed it on his biology.

 

The impala sat on a public bench by the artificial lake in the middle of Savannah Central Park, the cold late autumn air biting at his muzzle. He didn’t so much as shiver, however. Shivering was a weakness he refused to show. He was a statue, still as stone. Smoke blew from his nose when he exhaled, but besides that he was immobile.

 

Waiting…

 

He glanced at the mammal approaching him from the left, along the path by the lake his current position occupied. The mammal, an older male fox with eyes like cold steel, wandered towards the bench and, despite the mild height inconvenience, climbed up onto the open spot beside the larger herbivore.

 

For a time, neither spoke. To an outsider it would appear as if two old friends were enjoying one another’s company.

 

They could never guess the armies of dialogue both were preparing in their minds, nor the ensuing battle about to take place.

 

As with chess, one side must go first. That was the impala’s prerogative. “I know what you’re going to say. You think I should let Wilde be.”

 

The first pawn moved, baiting the opponent.

 

Nothing happened. Cain continued to stare forward at the lake, watching the ducks that had yet to fly south for winter.

 

Kitridge tried again. “You know how useful he was. It was a calculated risk. I’ll admit when you were right, and you were right.”

 

Nothing.

 

The impala glanced at his opponent in irritation. “What do you want, a fucking medal? I said you were right! Say some…”

 

“Why.”

 

Kitridge paused his tirad and furrowed his brow, in the way someone does when trying to understand a modern art piece. “Why what?”

 

“Why did I have to ruin that kit’s life?” said Cain, eyes transfixed on the water. “Why did I make Nicholas do those things?”

 

“You didn’t _make_ him do anything.” replied Kitridge. “He wanted to join the Alpha program.”

 

“Only because I sold it to him. He was a _child,_ for Karma’s sake. He _trusted_ me, that I was giving him a chance to be something in this life. He trusted me, and I failed him.”

 

Kitridge turned to look at the lake once more. The ducks had swam to the far side now, enticed by food he could not see. “He did make a difference. His work was instrumental.”

 

“In what? Saving your career?” spat Cain.

 

“You don’t get to make that call. He saved your tail too!” said Kitridge. “Our organization was dying, other branches were looking to swoop in and pick us apart like vultures. The Alpha program ensured our continued autonomy.”

 

“So you could keep playing god with impunity.”

 

“So I could keep _saving the free world_ with impunity. You can accuse me of kissing ass now and then, but you _will not_ insult my dedication to peace.”

 

“Careful, Kit. I don’t think Secretary General Equine would like to hear you say such things,” said the fox with obvious cheek.

 

“ **_Fucking pelt!_ ** …” Kitridge gave a very un-herbivorous snarl before quickly composing himself. Cain was good at these subversive plays. The impala had to be careful, lest he be baited by an easy piece. He let out a sigh and spoke with a voice hard as iron. “I’ll give it to you, you’re good at that.”

 

“Always enjoyed rustling your fur,” said Cain with a tang of smugness.

 

“Why is that?”

 

Cain pondered this for a second. “I guess it’s because you’re always so bloody wound up. It’s wonderfully easy to get you to snap.”

 

“Try having the weight of the world on _your_ shoulders for once.”

 

“That’s your excuse for keeping Nicholas around?”

 

The assault began once more. Kitridge turned to face his opponent. “He was good at his job. What more do you want.”

 

A pause of skepticism breached the air.

 

“Fine. You want the truth? The truth is with Alpha back in the picture we can finally finish this, the way we were supposed to years ago,” said the impala as he faced forward once more. “We can finally bring his part in the Alpha program to a close.”

 

“Ha, I knew it,” the vulpine said with disgust. “You had your chance, Wilson. He left. We chose not to pursue him then.”

 

“You _persuaded_ me not to.”

 

“Regardless, we’re done. Why not simply leave him alone now?”

 

“Because I know the stakes the best; what would happen with such an asset out of the picture. I thought we could keep it going without him, but he was… _too perfect_ for the role.”

 

“You’re ordering a kit to his death.”

 

“Which is no more than what I would expect from you or me! Everyone we work with knows what they have to do for the good of the world. You think Alpha doesn’t at least know we’ll be calling for him soon enough, now that he’s clearly _not_ broken. Hell! I bet even James knew what I did was necessary…”

 

The vulpine inclined his head at Kitridge, The herbivore paused to look and could see something in Cain’s eyes that few ever did: blind fury. The fox snarled, and a long dormant part of the impala’s brain sent out a warning his species hadn’t needed in a very long time.

 

“You do not get to speak of him, after what _you_ did, you **_do not_ ** get to make that statement.”

 

The impala kept a blank expression, barely suppressing his biological propensities. Teeth. Growling. Predator. It should have made him run.

 

Instead, he spoke carefully, perhaps a little too so. “I meant no offense, I can tell you’re still touchy on the subject.”

 

“Understatement of the year.”

 

“You know, I never expected you to forgive me for that, right?”

 

“And I never have.”

 

“I had to do it. It was war…”

 

“I know what you _think_ you had to do,” spoke Cain with a tempered pace. “I’ve come to live with that. Perhaps you were justified in your actions. My allegence since joining the agency is to the Zootopian Sovereignty first. Just don’t _fucking_ bring it up again.”

 

Kitridge gave a short nod, in spite of himself. “Let’s move on, then. How’s Wilde been since the operation?”

 

Cain’s growling subsided, like rolling thunder after a storm. “He’s back in his apartment recovering. I saw his medical records. I expect he’ll be fully healed within a month.”

 

“Good.” acknowledged the impala.

 

“Hopps has been tracked to his apartment as well. Frequently.”

 

“You really think…”

 

“I _know_ they are together _._ Unless you want to see the drone footage for yourself.”

 

“So you were right about that too?”

 

“Well, it was pretty blatant if you think about it,” said Cain, “They should be together. They complement one another nicely. His is a world grounded in harsh reality, while she provides hope for what could be. He’s there to keep her from the darkness, and she’s there to draw him back into the light.”

 

Kitridge snorted, “How poetic.”

 

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing that last part,” responded Cain. After a breath of silence, he asked, “Do you really want to deprive him of this new, wonderful life?”

 

Kitridge rubbed his temples with a cloven hoof. “There is so much at stake. Like it or not, we need Alpha.”

 

“Are you even certain this is still Alpha?”

 

“What? You think one cute, little bunny is going to change years of combat doctrine?”

 

“Clearly you underestimate love,” said Cain. He slid down from his seat and began to wander away. The impala knew any attempts to order his vulpine colleague to stop would be futile.

 

Instead he threw one last play at the fox. “And you would know of love?”

 

Cain stopped dead, still looking forward along the path. He appeared to contemplate this, if only for a moment, before answering. “Yes, actually. I loved someone once, quit deeply in fact. But I had to let go.”

 

“She broke your heart?”

 

“Not exactly,” said the fox with a slight chuckle. “ _He_ loved another. I couldn’t get in the way. But I promised myself to remain close with him and his mate, and to look out for them… and when they were gone, I promised to do the same with their son.”

 

A faint sigh left the aged tod, a whisper in the wind. “I guess I should stop making promises.”

 

Cain continued his gait with a single wave back. Kitridge could hardly ever tell what that tod was thinking. The game ended in a draw, as it usually did.

 

He’d force himself to believe it that way.  

 

Gazing across the lake once more, the impala gave a great sigh. In a voice as soft as the light breeze that finally managed to coax a shiver down his back, he spoke.

 

“How the hell did I get into this situation?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha will return... 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Do you know how many fanfics there are under Zootopia on this website? 3067. Suffice it to say I have read quite a few of them.  
> Some are still ongoing, some were abandoned, some reached their conclusion. 
> 
> But no matter the story, no matter how well it was written, or how much of a let down the ending was, every story I read had a moment, a point, where I had to stop for a time and exclaim “that’s clever” or “that’s awesome”. 
> 
> And ALL of them reflect an artist’s enjoyment. The people on this site love their craft, through thick and thin. 
> 
> So I must say, with utter sincerely, thank you for the opportunity to be counted amongst such creative minds, for the chance to tell my own tale. 
> 
> Here’s to the stories we’ve told, and those yet to come. 
> 
>  
> 
> I’m going to take some time to come up with the next arc to this story and FINALLY figure out how to upload to Fanfiction.net. 
> 
> Ok, I’m done for now. 
> 
> Until we meet again.


End file.
